Et Qui Sait
by FBI Bones
Summary: The five races have convened in order to determine an appropriate course of action, however the key to this new threat's defeat may not be as simple as one would have hoped, and the cost, far greater than anyone is willing to pay… Sequel to Savoir Aimer.
1. Natural Selection

_Disclaimer: Stargate: SG1 isn't mine. Neither is Stargate: Atlantis. Presuming only to own the things and people you don't recognize._

_Title: Et Qui Sait_

_Summary: The five races have convened in order to determine an appropriate course of action, however the key to this new threat's defeat may not be as simple as one would have hoped, and the cost, far greater than anyone is willing to pay… Sequel to Savoir Aimer._

_Pairings: Daniel/Vala, Sam/Jack, Cam/Carolyn _

_Rating: PG13_

_Genre: Drama/Angst_

Chapter 1: Natural Selection

The klaxons sounded, the roar of the giant naquada ring turning beneath the chevrons rumbled through the embarkation room. The lights flashed red and orange across the ceiling as the blast doors whooshed open and dozens of airmen jogged through in their usual orderly formation, weapons strapped to their chests, swift fingers ready to slip the safety catches from their guns at just a moment's notice.

General Landry entered the control room in a hurry, his feet carrying him at a brisk pace as he reached the window and looked down. Walter was sat in a seat next to him. The technician's eyes fixed steadily on the monitor, his palm poised over the hand scanner that would permit him to reopen the iris should the previously unscheduled off-world activation become identified as one of the many teams currently not on Earth.

"It's SG1 sir," the sergeant reported, glancing up at his commanding officer as the IDC came through.

In a simultaneous gesture, he pressed his palm onto the scanner and the thin titanium shield recoiled back into its confines, the wormhole that was now being permitted to form erupting and an ocean of blue light danced across the concrete walls. The familiar popping noise of objects being reformed was the only sound within the 'gate room before the wormhole collapsed a moment later and silence reigned for all but a second;

"Welcome back," Landry spoke over the intercom, greeting the ten people that had returned safely from perhaps one of their most important missions yet.

"Home-sweet-home," Jack's sarcasm was evident and a trace of irritability hindered his normal tone of voice, however even that was partially concealed by something else… something worrisome.

"Did you find anything out?" Landry said a moment later. His gaze skimming from person to person, each sporting their own expression of awe and abject-disbelief, his curiosity would have been killing him if it weren't for the fact that he knew whatever it was that had elicited such reactions from these people would be anything but good.

Sheppard glanced at Cam before addressing the senior officer "oh yeah sir," he swallowed, looking again at Daniel "loads,"

"I told you it was too much like Buffy to be true," Cam pointed out.

Mitchell looked odd. They all did; tired but not; their faces fresh, their skin bright. There were no bags under their eyes, no one was yawning, or concealing drooping eyelids but their general demeanour was strained, they looked exhausted by very mention of the fact that they didn't.

It had been three days since the two teams had embarked on the journey to the planet whose co-ordinates had been provided by Thor. No one had thought to ask the prestigious alien how long the 'Last Summit' would be likely to last and therefore no return had been scheduled. GDOs had been provided as that and radios were the only electronic items that they had been allowed to bring. The presence of weapons at a summit of the collective allies was apparently offensive and given that the presence of the Tau'ri on the council was extremely new, it had not been within anyone's interests to put that position in jeopardy.

Teyla frowned a little at the analogy Cam had used but the others made no response; it was highly likely that this was a comment he had made before, most likely several times and the only one lacking enough cultural knowledge and the passive interest to either not understand the comparison or be curious enough to find out was the fair Athosian. Ronon's dark eyes just narrowed a little, barely noticeable as he seemed to be torn between asking what a 'Buffy' was and simply coming to the conclusion that it was neither worth it nor relevant.

"She's not even a year old," Vala's voice wasn't much more than a whisper, her incredulity and doubt as obvious as was possible; this could not be true, this was so… clichéd, there was no way that to defeat Adria, to bring down her forces, they had to use a little girl, "she can barely talk, how is she supposed to know how to defeat Adria?"

Sam gave her an apologetic look, her sympathy conveyed through her blue eyes.

"Thor must be wrong," Mckay said abruptly, though he looked as concerned as the rest of them, save for the fact his posture was far more tense. His eyes were the only betrayal of the feelings the summit had evoked in him. "It's ridiculous to even consider the possibility that a child could beat Adria,"

"Rodney…" Sheppard drawled in warning, sensing the warning signs of his friend going into an out-and-out rant there and then.

The astrophysicist barely even acknowledged the utterance. "I mean what next? Shall we just throw her in front of a Wraith and see what happens? Let the Replicators baby sit for a few hours?" his sarcasm was sharp and almost poisonous, "hey, what about sending her off to meet the Genii?" Mckay's outrage was surprising to say the least however in a way it also wasn't; the relationship the abrasive man had managed to forge with the baby was a unique one at best. "I'm sure they'd just love to meet her,"

"Mckay," Ronon growled.

"Your concerns are not misplaced Doctor Mckay," Teal'c informed him, the man was breathing in short, sharp bursts from his nose; he looked angry, nervous, _scared_. "However I do not believe that Lexy-Claire's function is as a weapon-"

"Of course not!" Vala exclaimed, almost jumping out of her seat, "she's a baby!"

Teal'c gave her a calm look, "but a key in the defeat of her own blood,"

"What we gonna do?" Jack said, "invite the nice Orisi over for dinner and let the almighty wrath of the building blocks loose on her?" he leaned back in his chair "God help her in the Tonka truck gets involved," he whistled under his breath.

Landry pinched the bridge of his nose; the sarcastic remarks, witty tongues and tension was overwhelming. The air was thick with words left unsaid; urgency present in everyone's tones. He shot a look at Daniel who had remained obscurely silent throughout the whole time they had been sat in this briefing room which was… now over an hour; wonderful.

"We can't send a baby into battle," Cam stated, "simple as,"

"Why not?" Ronon said, expertly avoiding looking at either parent or Teyla at this point, "if that's what she's meant to do,"

"We don't know that!" Vala snapped, "all we know is what Thor told us, and to be frank, that little guy is really beginning to get on my nerves,"

Ronon quirked an eyebrow at her, "I know she's your daughter," he stated tonelessly.

"Good," the brunette answered, "then you'll understand why I am not letting Adria anywhere near her,"

"Is not Adria your child also?" Teyla asked softly, her tone anything but harsh and her accent soft and lilting.

Vala's glare was enough to silence even Teyla.

"Vala if what Thor said is true, if Lexy really does have the power to stop Adria-" Sam was earnest, she more than understood Vala's reluctance and she didn't even have to think about her own gut response because it was as much outraged as that of the baby's mother.

Lexy was a child, a baby, she could barely talk and was just learning to walk. There was no logical reason why the infant would hold the information required to win the war against Adria but Thor had never steered them wrong and she would never pin the Nox as the type of… well _people_… to put a baby in danger. Nevertheless… Lexy? It was wrong, convoluted and completely unethical. And Sam hated the fact she was even contemplating such a possibility.

"We have no way of knowing whether or not it would work," Sheppard chipped in, "and we can't just give it a test run; this is a one shot thing and if it _doesn't_ work…"

They all knew what would happen if it didn't, if they left Lexy and Adria to fight it out and it didn't work. Adria was the Orisi, child of the Ori, she wasn't even meant to be, accelerated aging, powers beyond any normal comprehension and abilities that are not scientific explainable. Lexy was a normal child, a ten-month-old, blonde haired, blue-eyed little girl, her vocabulary extremely limited and the heaviest thing she could lift was a plastic bowl. It wasn't worth the risk.

The silence was intense, a thick fog blurring everything that before they could have considered almost clear cut. Morally they all knew that using Lexy was wrong, fighting waves of nausea and tight knots in their chest as they went against every instinct that they had to protect the only shred of innocence left inside the mountain.

"How is Lexy supposed to even know what to do?" Landry pointed out urgently, "we've seen no display of power… unless… Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel shook his head "as far as I'm aware Lexy's a perfectly normal little girl," his words were concise, far more so than one would have expected to be possible but the hint of desperation in his voice, the jagged edge they had all been placed on was quivering beneath his feet.

He was the child's father, the ingrained instinct to protect his daughter was overwhelming, and all the emotion that had flooded him the day she had been born was still as real and intense as ever. Even considering the option that maybe Lexy held the key to defeating the Orisi made him sick to his stomach. He fought it back because what kind of dad did that make him if he was able to contemplate the possibility of placing a vulnerable child in front of one of the most powerful forces SG1 had ever come across?

"Is there not some way to determine the extent of Lexy's abilities?" Teyla said, refusing to even think about the logistics of this battle; her own maternal instincts pushing against any plausibility.

It surprised her that Colonel Carter was entertaining the concept but perhaps that was more to do with their cultures than how emotionally cold or protective either one of them was. She did not belief for a moment that the blonde was comfortable with the idea and perhaps there was no difference at all between them instinctively, but perhaps the other woman was relying too heavily on the emotions swirling through her about _not _using the baby as a weapon that she was compensating it by going to the other extreme and actually contemplating the unthinkable.

"What do you suggest?" Sam inquired, her eyes begging for Teyla to know something, anything that would mean that they would not have to choose between a baby and the galaxy.

Teyla leaned forward in her seat and Sam noticed her almost unperceivable wince; she did not press the matter though "maybe…" she stopped and began again "perhaps there is a simulation device we could use." She glanced at Vala who did not seem so infuriated by the idea that Teyla felt she should stop so the Athosian continued "much like those which you have spoken about in pilot training John,"

Sheppard blinked at her, it was a conceivable notion, practical even.

"I could write a program I suppose," Mckay tried to sound put upon, but once again was unsuccessful, genius he may be, but actor he was not.

"It could take weeks," Sam pointed out, "months even,"

It looked as if Mckay was seriously struggling to speak but apparently the desperation of the situation was weighing down on him much more than most had thought "half that time if you helped," he answered.

Sam stared at him and then smiled a little despite of herself. Teyla looked largely surprised and Sheppard looked as if he was about to start strafing the area for alien impostors. Because Mckay… and he wasn't even giving time for him to check everything Sam would have to do in that calculation and Rodney was not the sort of man to just overlook details like that.

"She'd be terrified," Daniel's implored, "we can't just put her in a machine and see if she does something unusual. Besides, this is Adria we're talking about would a simulator even be able to do what it would need to?"

"Of course," the caustic scientist retorted.

"Adria has powers none of us know about," Sam said, sounding defeated once more, "we wouldn't be able to account for all the variables,"

Mckay appeared to be trying to think of a suitable counter argument but his shoulders slumped when he came to the realisation that Sam was indeed right. He did not want to think about the surge of something he didn't recognise that had hit his chest when Daniel had said how scared the infant would be; he was getting far too attached to that child.

"That's it!" Cam exclaimed, his expression bright.

"Care to elaborate Colonel Mitchell?" Landry pursued the issue when Cam didn't continue for a moment.

"Sorry," he shook himself "that device… in your lab,"

Sam looked at him almost sarcastically; there were _a lot_ of devices in her lab.

"The funny looking one…" Cam started then realised how stupid that had sounded "Thor left it for us when he stayed with us when his ship got busted up,"

When _The Daniel Jackson_ had received considerable damage thanks to the a fire fight with the Ori ships, the Asguard had claimed refuge in the SGC until the ship could either be repaired enough to fly back to Aurila or another Asguard ship could come to their rescue. Thor had helped Sam and Mckay fix Arthur's Mantle but he had also provided them with some much coveted upgrades to some of the minor systems and devices in the lab. Amongst which, he had left them some of the more simplistic technologies that the Asguard no longer had much use for – like the cell phones of the early nineteen-nineties would be to those used to the compact palm-pilots in use today – for study. These devices either did not work as they were intended or they were so 'ancient' that their power sources were depleted, either way they had provided a basis for investigation.

It dawned on Sam what her co-worker was talking about, "we can't use that,"

"Why not? It might tell us something,"

"What _are_ you talking about?" Landry demanded.

"There's a device," Sam started, shooting Mitchell a pointed look when he went to speak. "Thor was hesitant to let us have it… it's a temperamental technology even to them, abandoned years ago because they weren't sure how safe it would be,"

"What does it do?" Sheppard asked calmly.

Sam hesitated and Mckay picked up.

"Theoretically it allows you to travel time," he said "_theoretically_,"

Eyes widened.

"Like a time dilation field?" Jack asked.

Sam was hasty to cut this off before it got out of hand, they didn't need to get their hopes up. "Sort of; from what I've been able to figure out, the device works in a similar fashion to the quantum mirror at Area fifty-one except instead of parallel universes it jumps time,"

Landry looked doubtful but raised his eyebrows and looked at Mitchell "so what are you suggesting?"

"Well none of us are going to let Lexy anywhere near Adria as a baby are we?" Cam started "so we use the device to jump forward, maybe twenty or thirty years and find out there how Adria was defeated,"

"That's presuming she is," Mckay snapped.

His point was valid, and there was once more a tide of quiet.

"If she isn't, can't you just jump back through to this time?" Ronon's tone was measured.

"The device is _temperamental_," Sam reiterated, "it would be impossible to calibrate it to jump forwards to an exact moment in time, never mind jump back,"

"Not _impossible_," Mckay argued, "difficult obviously but I could probably come up with something,"

Sam resisted the urge to glower at him. "Sir," she turned to Landry and stated quite simply; "I don't recommend using the device,"

The General looked thoughtful then gave Sam an apologetic look before turning to Mckay "could you do it?"

The astrophysicist gave him an acerbic look which said as much as Landry needed to hear.

"Sir…" Sam started, indignant "the Asguard stopped using the device because it didn't work, if we use it and get stuck…"

"We don't have much of a choice Sam," Daniel said before Landry could respond.

"Daniel…" Sam began but she wasn't sure where to go; how was she supposed to tell him that he couldn't try and save both? That he couldn't try and avoid another agonising decision; daughter or the universe? Knowing Daniel he would have already thought over every possibility.

If he chose the universe, he would lose both Lexy and Vala and all you had to do was glance at him to know how much those two meant to him. He would spend the rest of his life blaming himself for the death of his daughter, he would fall into the same pit Jack had. And if he chose his child he would blame himself anyway for being selfish, he wouldn't see what everyone else would. He wouldn't be able to comprehend the fact that no one would blame him, that no one would be thinking 'if only Doctor Jackson had given up his little girl'. After everything, Daniel had the right to be selfish but choosing Lexy wouldn't be selfish, not that he would see it that way.

Swallowing and speaking with a voice heavy with trepidation, "I'll see what I can do,"

_Next Chapter: Mckay's genius and Sam's patience is put to the test as they race to fix a device the Asguard couldn't. _


	2. Providence

Chapter 2: Providence

Sam ran a hand through her hair and gave Mckay an odd look when she caught him staring at her. Rolling her eyes to herself she looked back at her laptop, checking the connecting wires between it and the time travel device one more time before tapping in another coded set of variables. A moment later _'simulation failed'_ flashed up in the centre of her screen and she resisted the urge to smack the side of the monitor in frustration much like Jack had done a couple of days ago when the cable had, as he had so aptly said, 'gone on the fritz'. It hadn't helped then so chances were, it wouldn't help now.

"This isn't going to work," she said dejectedly.

"Hmph," Mckay muttered, hunching over his keyboard for a moment longer before spinning in his chair to the whiteboard and scrawling a series of calculations across the dry wipe surface with his black marker.

"Mckay," Sam pressed, "it's not working,"

He shushed her and she idly wondered if she should feel affronted by the fact but she was too discouraged to bother. In a way it was a little surprising to see the civilian scientist so determined to protect Lexy. He was abrasive, rude, insecure and egotistical, his people skills were next to none but for some reason the infant had gotten through to him in a way few people seemed able; save for perhaps his sister and her daughter.

"Dammit," he muttered coming to a halt and scowling at the board, he threw the marker down at his work station.

Sam sighed. Choosing to say nothing because there was nothing she really could say. They had two choices; fix the device, or use Lexy, the latter was unappealing, immoral and would require restraining both her parents and essentially kidnapping the child in order to do so. The prior was proving to be impossible. There had to be a third option, one they hadn't considered. Just because Thor said that the only way to defeat Adria before she got too powerful was to use a baby didn't necessarily mean it were true. So he'd never been wrong before, there's a first time for everything.

"Hey," Sheppard drawled, "how's it going?"

Sam gave him a pinched smile and glanced towards Mckay who simply huffed and looked up when he felt people staring at him.

"Sheppard," he sounded remotely surprised but not without a tone of vague familiarity underlying it; as if he was perfectly accustomed to the Colonel dropping into the lab he was working in on a frequent basis.

Sam supposed that was true, then realised how obvious that was because the two were best friends, at least in their own little way. So chances were, hanging out together was both likely and plausible because – and she didn't mean to sound so cruel – it was difficult to imagine anyone enjoying being in Mckay's company enough to seek him out. Yet Sheppard at the very least, and from what she had observed, Ronon and Teyla as well, seemed to do so with surprising frequency. It wasn't that she felt that Mckay was so unpleasant no one deserved his company because he wasn't, for all his nastiness and harsh words, he had moments where he was a decent person – the persistence over finding a way to work this device even when all logic should tell him it was impossible a prime example. He would tell them all it was because a child wouldn't be able to pull off whatever she needed too no matter what the four other races had said. That he could do fix the device because he was Doctor Rodney Mckay, PhD, astrophysicist, mastermind and genius but in truth it would be because he actually cared for the baby, and, even less likely for him to admit, he did not want to see Daniel and Vala lose their only child. Even for his abrasive attitude, people mattered to him and even if only because he liked Sam and considered, in some sort of way, Sam's friends, his friends, he would do everything within his power and more to stop them from losing anymore than they had too.

"How's it going?" Sheppard repeated but his tone wasn't impatient merely curious, as if he thought by asking he would be diffusing a possibly – and more than likely – tense situation.

"Poorly," Mckay responded curtly, his hands pausing their constant movement for the first time in four hours.

Sheppard nodded knowledgeably and looked to Sam for her to elaborate when it became apparent that his friend wasn't going too, which, if he were honest, was not unexpected.

"I don't think it's going to work," Sam answered, "the device was abandoned because the Asguard scientists couldn't make it useable; we don't stand a chance,"

"It doesn't work at all?" Sheppard's eyebrows quirked as he glanced speculatively at the equations on the board, more than half of them made sense, and the pilot idly found himself scanning them through for anomalies purely because the numbers were there and the defeat in the air was heavy.

Sam pulled a face, like she was struggling to think of a way to explain it; "it _works_," she said slowly "for the most part theoretically, and I think, in time we might be able to account for a number of possible errors, however there is no way we could be exact if we were to use it, nor would we know how safe it was,"

"So run a simulation,"

"What do you think we've been doing Sheppard?" Mckay snapped shortly, "twiddling our thumbs and playing golf on the computers?"

Sheppard shot him an acerbic look.

"I have done," the blonde woman sounded tired. The simulation had alternated between running and not, depending on which variables she included and which she didn't; problem was that the more parameters she added, the more frequently the simulation crashed. "But no matter what we do, it's not going to be possible to predict precisely where we end up,"

"So you jump thirty years ahead instead of twenty-five… no big deal, right?"

Sam grimaced and pointedly avoided looking at Mckay.

"Thirty-five years then,"

"The device provides a portal both forwards and back, if we can't calibrate it exactly, we could end up anywhere from the Jurassic period to…" she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the momentary expression of boyish awe on Sheppard's face "besides, getting back would be just as hard,"

* * *

"They're not using her," Vala said as if she thought Daniel was trying to argue with her; the fact that he had said very little since the briefing, despite his wife's numerous attempts to make him do so.

Daniel had secluded himself, moving into his office almost as soon as the briefing had come to a somewhat indecisive conclusion and the silence that had signalled its ending had erupted into Mckay's rapid fire of possibilities, numbers, and impossibly large parameters and Sam's careful counter arguments. He was yet to vocalise his opinion on the topic and if it hadn't been so dire a situation, he would probably be offended at Vala's thinly veiled accusation.

Vala smoothed out her daughter's curls, shifting her from one hip to the other, "Daniel," she sounded somewhat frustrated, "are you even going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" he asked wearily, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose before replacing them.

The brunette gave him a pointed look that said far more than words were able and he sighed.

"They won't use her Vala," Daniel assured her, looking back at his work, tactically avoiding catching the brilliant blue eyes of the baby in her mother's arms.

His chest hurt. His throat felt like it was tight, constricted and every breath felt like a battle with some unseen entity. This was impossible, it was unfair; Adria was Vala's daughter too, despite the fact that the woman would adamantly reject any blood ties she had with the Orisi.

Pitting the two girls against each other was entirely unethical not to mention amoral and utterly preposterous. How could Thor expect them to even contemplate placing their daughter's life in such jeopardy? On the other hand if they didn't, if the only key to stopping Adria was Lexy and they didn't use it… how many people would die? How many lives would be lost just because he'd been too concerned with the facts to take the risk, one life for the lives of thousands; was that really so much to ask? He was in a quandary and he hated himself that he had allowed himself to get stuck there. This was his daughter, his _little girl_, how sick was he if he was actually able to toy with the possibility of using her the way Thor wanted them too? Technically they should wait; ethically it was only right to give Lexy the opportunity to make her own decision but they didn't have time for that. That would be another twenty years and even then it would be hard, having to explain to her that if she didn't go and face her sister, then she would be condemning millions of people to death. Talk about a party-downer; 'hey you're twenty-one, you can drink, you can drive, you can vote and you can save the universe from the bitch-queen of the millennium, how you ask? Why it's simple… you make _a huge fucking guess!'_ Because that was the worst part; no one knew how it worked, how she did it. All Thor and the Nox, the Tok'ra and the Furlings could say was that Lexy was the key to the defeat of the Orisi, conveniently the 'how' was left out of the instruction manual.

But that's the way it always was. Vague ambiguity, half-cocked guesses and assumptions based on hypothesis' that had no evidence to support them. The races were like that, their interference and the presence of the Furlings at the meeting, demonstrative of the seriousness of the situation but the information they either possessed or were willing to share was limited to the extreme. It was unbelievable that it had taken them three days to say 'your daughter is a weapon; use her' but that was ancient races for you wasn't it. First the Goa'uld, then the Replicators, then the Ori, now Adria… surely the universe was running out of bad guys? It had to be.

Vala was Adria's mother. Surely at some point that would kick in and the detached sense of purpose that his wife had in regards to the Orisi would dissipate and Vala would be faced with the choice no one should envy; _which one? _Of course, if asked now Vala would automatically deny any relation to Adria but that could only last so long. They couldn't bank everything they had on the fact that Vala's maternal instincts wouldn't come into play sooner or later. What was even more bizarre is that SG1's latest nemesis was his step-daughter - talk about complicated family relations.

"What if Sam and Mckay can't get that device to work?" Vala asked, and by posing the question it was as if she was determined for him to tell her he didn't know what they were going to do, as if she was purposefully trying to bate him into an impossible argument.

"We'll think of something," he placated because there was very little else he could say.

Vala opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a knock at the already-open office door, she turned and Daniel looked up; the large man in the doorway looked thoroughly put out that he had been placed on messenger duty.

Thumb hooked in the belt hook of his empty holster, Ronon rumbled; "Carter and Mckay have found something,"

* * *

Mckay was beaming by the time they reached Sam's lab. The normally, reasonably spacious work area was cramped and crowded. Perhaps the only person missing from the scenario was Nick. Jack was hovering in the doorway as if half-uncertain of his role in the scene, Daniel and Vala were all but front and centre, Lexy squirming in her mother's arms and avidly trying to find a way to climb over the brunette's shoulder to reach Cam as he pulled funny faces at the infant in an attempt to amuse her. Sheppard was lounging in the chair at Mckay's desk as the aforementioned scientist was studying the device hooked up to Sam's laptop with an intense scrutiny. Teyla was standing courteously to one side, hands clasped neatly in front of her and Ronon and Teal'c seemed to be inadvertently flexing their muscles and squaring off under the weary eye of General Landry.

"I did it," Rodney pronounced delightedly when it became apparent that there would be no drum roll and he shot Sheppard a filthy look when the pilot had mockingly asked if he'd been waiting for one.

"Mckay," Sam's tone was warning enough.

He rolled his eyes and huffed an impatient breath, "fine," he said "_we_ did it,"

"Mckay!" the blonde was indignant.

"What?"

Sam turned to face the others, "we haven't done anything," she assured them.

"The device works doesn't it?" Mckay challenged her, blue eyes sparkling with delight and self-appraisal.

"Theoretically," Sam pointed out, determined to make the currently irrational man see sense "we don't know for sure-"

"The simulation _worked_," he retorted and Sheppard idly wondered if his friend was going to stick his tongue out as the petulant tone of voice would have accompanied the gesture perfectly.

"It did _not! _It-"

"What's going on?" Landry demanded "we all get called down here yet it doesn't seem you've managed to prove or disprove anything,"

"Except the betting pool," Cam pointed out.

The General didn't even bother looking at him.

"Betting pool?" Sam queried, curiosity getting the better of her.

"On how long you two would be able to work together before you lost it," the Lieutenant Colonel grinned.

"There was a pool?" Mckay looked momentarily hurt by the news.

Vala spared him a brief glance but after that paid him no mind, "Sam?" she asked.

The blonde sighed "the simulations we ran were successful,"

"But…" Daniel prompted.

"But I don't think it's actually safe enough to use. The number of parameters and variables I had to implement means that the device is – at best – volatile; there's no telling what exactly it will do if we actually use it."

"But it _can_ be used," Mckay pointed out, his finger raised and the smile on his face broad.

"It _can_ but it _shouldn't_."

Landry seemed to consider this for several long moments, during which time there was very little other noise, save for Lexy who had grown bored of her surrogate uncle's antics and had decided that she wanted to reach Ronon. The Satedan looked unimpressed but undoubtedly amused as the infant strained in her mother's arms, chubby hands clasping wildly in mid air as she gurgled and made little groans of disappointment when she found she could not reach.

"Do you want me too take her?" Ronon asked, eyebrows raised yet some how managing to sound perfectly normal.

Vala blinked but shrugged and let the big man take her daughter. He looked bizarre cradling the delicate little girl in his muscled arms but even he couldn't hide the smile that broke out as Lexy grinned and clapped her hands on either side of his face before cocking her head to one side. "Daddy," she pointed at Daniel then peered around the room, eyes settling on Mckay who was reviewing some of the notes on the device as Landry conferred quietly with Sam in the corner, "'Kay,"

Cam grinned; "Ronon," he said, gesturing to him, realising what the girl was doing.

If it were possible for Lexy to frown, it certainly looked like that was what she was trying to do before she beamed "'onnie!"

Sheppard almost choked and Teyla smirked, moving gracefully over to their team leader and patting him on the back as she watched the Satedan with a similar amount of mirth.

Lexy giggled as Ronon's dark eyes narrowed marginally "Ro-non," he corrected.

"'onnie," she replied, looking at him as if she thought he was being purposefully obtuse – in that infamous way all small children have that seems to manage to make their elders feel three inches tall.

Ronon glared at her, but it looked more humorous than threatening. A moment later all transgressions were apparently forgiven when Lexy wrapped her little arms as far as they would go around Ronon's neck.

General Landry cleared his throat and fixed them all with a pointed look; "I cannot force any one of you to use this device," he began "however…" his look at Sam did not go unmissed, "if you want to I won't stop you. Nevertheless I must stress the importance of finding a way to defeat Adria once and for all,"

Vala opened her mouth to loudly protest against the use of Lexy as any sort of weapon but Daniel's fingers brushing against her silenced her long enough that Landry could continue.

"I will not post any recommendation to the President or the IOA that Lexy should be put in any danger. Even if I did I am in no doubt the President would oppose the idea anyway,"

It did not go unnoticed that he held no opinion on the loyalty of the IOA to the men and women of the Stargate Programme; their loyalty was to the funding, the economic effects of running what they deemed to be a useless waste of tax-payers' money. Upon finding out that Nick had, in short, become a conduit for a dead Ancient, the IOA had been quick to sentence him to death and if they were to discover that Lexy was basically the Ancient equivalent to the Orisi… It wasn't that Landry thought that the IOA were so cruel as to want to 'terminate' Lexy's life but something was telling him that informing them of the yet-to-actually-be-witnessed powers of one of their own would not be his best of moments. Technically he would have to inform the IOA of the mission; it was protocol and there was no way to avoid it. The IOA would never want to 'terminate' – even as he was proud to serve his country, the IOA's frequent use of euphemisms did not go unmissed – a human baby's life, however the determination that Lexy was human would be difficult, after all her sister was essentially a demigod and her mother was not a native of Earth.

"I think it's our best shot," Cam ended the uncomfortable silence with a clearing of his throat. He looked at the others for their approval, or at least an inclination that they were considering the possibility, after all, it would be unfair to expect them all to make such an abrupt decision.

Daniel nodded "I agree,"

"Daniel-" Sam started.

"Sam," he answered "it's the only option we have; if you've got any other suggestions then I'll listen but at the moment…"

She nodded then "I'll go," she swallowed and shot Jack and brief look as she ducked under her bangs, glancing at the sign flashing on her monitor; '_simulation successful'_.

"I'll look after Lexy," Jack offered when he saw the torn expression on Vala's face, her hand resting on her daughter's back; the choice to stay and know she was putting her child at risk or go and risk not coming back placed her in a very uncomfortable position.

Four of the five members of SG1 looked at Teal'c; he inclined his head, a strange sort of smile playing on his lips as he nodded his agreement.

"I'll have to go as well of course," Mckay said, and Sheppard just smirked at how his 'put-upon' tone was becoming less and less successful the more frequently he attempted to use it.

"You really don't," Sam assured him as gently as possible, "we'll be fine,"

"You said yourself the device is volatile. Someone has to go to make sure it works,"

"I should think Colonel Carter is more than capable of such a feat Rodney," Teyla spoke up, sparing a glance for the blonde.

Mckay huffed his indignation and went to speak again when Landry attempted to cut off the debate; "SG1, Doctor Mckay – be ready for…" he glanced at his watch, the display reading it to be mid-afternoon, "Eighteen-hundred hours. Until then, rest up," he paused "you have a long trip ahead of you,"

_Next Chapter: They've been warned how temperamental the Asguard device is, a new technology that's barely been tested, but they're going to use it all the same…_


	3. Early Arrival

Chapter 3: Early Arrival

"You don't have to do this you know." Jack spoke softly, gauging the blonde's reaction carefully as she ran through yet another simulation. He could tell she was barely focused on the programme when she jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the heavy silence in the lab.

"Yes I do," she clicked the 'exit' icon when the '_simulation successful_' sign flashed up again.

"Mckay's going," the ex-General reminded her "he's as qualified as you are at using this thing,"

Sam shook her head "that's not the point,"

"Then what is?" he asked calmly.

Sam was silent for a long moment. Jack just waited patiently.

"I'm repeating myself," she started, almost incredulous that she, Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor Samantha Carter could come up with no better reasoning to convince her superiors that using this device was _wrong,_ "but the device is dangerous. The Asguard couldn't fix it; what makes Mckay so sure that we've sorted that?"

"How's it dangerous?" the note of disbelief in his voice was absurd, how could Jack – _Jack_ of all people – not comprehend how hazardous using an alien device would be?

The sigh she let out was more a minute huff of breath sounding almost… no he wasn't going there, "setting a limit on it is next to impossible; it's going to be difficult to calibrate it precisely enough to get us there, never mind back again," she ran a hand through her hair; the blonde bangs sticking out in feathered tufts in all manner of directions "the limitations…"

"Woah, what limitations?"

Sam opened her mouth to respond but the phone ringing cut her off; "Carter," she answered "oh… I'm sorry… no I just lost track of time… I'll be right there," she hung up, glancing at Jack as she moved from behind her workstation. "I have to go. I'm late for the briefing,"

* * *

"I'm sorry Colonel but that's my final decision," Landry said to Mitchell after having spent the last fifteen minutes trying to nicely point out that being the commanding officer of both Colonel Mitchell and the base, he did _not_ have to justify nor explain his reasons for doing anything; least of all his reasons for choosing to allow one Doctor Mckay to go on the mission with SG1.

Cam's disdain was evident but he gave a curt nod; "yes sir," he could have played the 'I'm-dating-your-daughter' card, but that would have been unfair and inappropriate as the last thing he needed was a conversation with the other man about how wrong it was to use Carolyn that way; not that he didn't already know but when it came to Landry…

"Sorry I'm late sir," Sam said as Landry and Cam joined the others in the briefing room; exiting the General's office.

Landry nodded his acknowledgement and took his seat, waiting for the others to do so as well; "Colonel Carter," he began "did you find anything to support your beliefs that the device is unsafe?"

She looked a little taken aback that he felt her so predictable because that was precisely what she had been trying to do. Sam was sure it stung more that it was meant too that there was a note of condescension present in his voice.

"No," she said, adding quickly; "but-"

"I'm sorry," he both looked and sounded strained and she felt a pang of sympathy for him. "This is our only option and without hard proof that the device is life-endangering I have no sound reason to call of the mission,"

"Sam," Mitchell placated but he didn't continue. He didn't have too.

Sam bit her lip and glanced at Daniel. She found it slightly bizarre that he had, had so little to say on the subject; the normally vocal archaeologist was quiet and his silences measured. Every movement as if he were mentally calculating the repercussions of what he was doing. It was like he felt he had some sort of abstract touch on the world, a lifeline keeping him linked in a hypothetical circle he wasn't sure he existed in. A year ago Daniel would have been all but jumping up and down in either excitement or indignation; ten years ago it would have been definite. They'd all changed over the years, growing up as they became more jaded than they already were; both perturbed and empowered by the things they had seen and heard both on Earth and off of it.

However somehow Daniel had always managed to maintain a vital sense of… an exuberant mixture of innocence and morality probably described it best. It had not dwindled over the years, and it was certainly still there now, evident in so many different ways. Though that was not to say that parenthood had not changed him; he needed not to vocalise his adoration for his daughter, the passion was obvious in the way he looked or spoke of her. He would do anything for any one of them; Sam supposed it frightened her in many ways precisely what he would do for his daughter – was there any more possible?

Daniel caught Sam looking at him and he smiled a little in her direction. He understood her concern, grasping her claims more firmly than perhaps anyone else did but the way he perceived worthy risks and the way everyone else did was inordinately different, not that he had the slightest intention of changing that fact.

Vala's hands were twisting in her lap, her recently reclaimed wedding band being twirled around her finger, backwards and forwards in the same repetitive motion. He reached down at took her hand firmly in his, interlocking their fingers and squeezing it reassuringly; he couldn't tell if the trembles he felt were hers or his. Lexy was with Jack, and would be so until they returned from the mission, save for the goodbye. It seemed as if without her daughter's reassuring weight and heady scent of baby powder Vala was lost. He knew the feeling, but this was something they had to do.

He knew that when it came to it Vala would try and back out. She'd want to stay behind. The prospect of not being able to get back to Lexy was nigh on unbearable and whilst he was far from the master, his wife was considerably worse at compartmentalizing. Reasonably she would be able to see why going on this mission was necessary; Landry was right, there was no other acceptable option open to them. However the mere thought of never seeing the face of their beautiful little girl again nearly broke his heart. He swallowed the lump that rose to his throat with several moments of self-chagrin.

He couldn't do this without Vala. He needed her with him, but telling her that would be ten times more difficult than it should ever be because she wouldn't believe it, not completely and the last thing he wanted to do was end up with them both arguing and crying yet again. They'd done too much of that. She wouldn't be able to understand that fact that this was different than any other time he'd gone on a hair-raising, possibly-suicidal mission, that he needed her there to hold his hand, keep him going and just _be there_.

Even after this long the raven-haired woman still seemed to struggle to understand how sometimes, just her presence was enough, it doesn't always have to be sex and hugs and kisses and cuddling in front of the television. Sometimes just knowing that he could reach out in the middle of the night when he had managed to tear himself free of the turbulent images of fire and pain and screaming, falling stones, blood and ice-cold eyes that haunted his dreams and she would be there. He wouldn't necessarily touch her, but simply knowing he could was enough to soothe his racing mind and send him back to a peaceful oblivion.

Landry cleared his throat, glanced briefly at his hands; the gesture a sign of weakness that he had not wanted to show. "I know I have already said it but I think, considering the circumstances, I need to say it again; no one has to do this, I cannot order any of you to use that machine. It's your own choice," then, as if to lighten the mood he added; "all I have to do is sign the paperwork,"

Cam managed a dry smile, as if he appreciated what his CO was trying to do and there was a long silence in which no one said anything.

Daniel felt Vala's hand twitch in his. Her entire body was tensing and he'd known her long enough to know the internal battle she was going through in order to try and both keep her word and follow her instincts because at heart, that was what the brunette was good at; following her gut reaction, it had always been there, a ritual of survival that was important as a zat or a gun at her side.

"How far ahead are we planning on going?" Daniel said, clearing his throat afterwards when it came out quieter than he had intended, maybe part of his breaking of the silence was to avoid giving Vala the opportunity to back out; was that wrong?

"Twenty-five years is probably the most appropriate," Mckay said, taking centre stage and his cool exterior almost offended Sam but she let it slide, "as it allows us to communicate with your daughter at a much more mature age,"

"That's sayin' that the Ori don't win," Cam pointed out, his usual optimism somewhat dwindled, the sense of wit and irony drowned in the despair of the situation.

"If it's wrong," Mckay answered shortly, "we simply come back and try again,"

Daniel glanced at Sam. His friend's certainty that device was unstable would normally be of great concern to him but this time, there was a higher price to pay if they didn't take that risk. He did not expect anyone else to go, even Vala, he needed her there, he would even be as selfish as to say he _wanted_ her there but if she honestly did not want to go he would never force her. It was a little over-whelming that the others were so adamant that they go too; Mckay's perhaps the most obscure but it would seem that Lexy had this odd effect on people; the outstanding ability to make everyone like her. Oh he knew all babies could do that but not all of them could wrap the likes of Ronon Dex and Rodney Mckay around their little finger within mere minutes of meeting them.

Landry nodded then took a deep breath, "how soon can the device be ready?"

"It's ready now sir," Sam said somewhat reluctantly.

Whilst the soldier and the friend in her told to her submit, and stop actively trying to find reasons not to use the device, there was some part of her that refused to entirely let this go. Despite it being completely unreasonable that it _should _work because how could they possibly fix something the Asguard couldn't? This was Thor, the scientists of the prestigious race, the High Council, they were capable of cloning and consciousness transference, how could two rather insignificant humans – in the grand scheme of things – be able to do anything they couldn't? A fresh outlook was one thing but this was insane.

"Be ready to disembark in one hour," Landry got to his feet and the others did as well, his harsh tone was softened some what as he caught Daniel's eye, "Doctor Jackson is that enough time?"

Daniel nodded his thanks and the General retreated into his office."I can't do this Daniel,"

* * *

It was as if on cue, every word scripted in his head, knowing someone well was one thing, but this well? It was strange but he had no time to contemplate the matter. In less than forty-five minutes they would be making a journey that – and boy did it sound clichéd – they might not return from pondering the ins and outs of love ad marriage was better left for late night reveries under the influence of some form of alcohol.

Leaving Lexy behind was always going to be difficult but what choice did they have? At least this way they could say they tried. He did not want to stay, knowing he could have done something more, only to have to watch everyone around him die; all the while with that burden on his shoulders. Did it make him a coward that he was willing to run away rather than face the possibility he could fail? Rather than have to look his little girl and his friends in the eyes and say 'I'm sorry'?

If they didn't make it back then Lexy would be well taken care of. As Godfather, should anything happen to both parents, Jack could assume custody and there was no one better than the grizzly former-Air Force Officer that Daniel could think of to raise his daughter in his absence. No one he trusted more. He shouldn't be thinking about things like that. They'd come back, this was the work of the Asguard, Sam and Mckay; two brilliant scientists, of course they'd be back. It sent a surge of nausea through his stomach like a rock. He didn't believe a word of it.

It wasn't until Vala had almost left the room that Daniel realised he had taken too long to reply; "Vala wait…"

"Daniel…" she whispered, eyes wide and pleading with him.

"You need to go," he told her and it sounded so wrong even to his own ears he was suitably surprised when Vala didn't just come and slap him, which he more than expected her to do, the definitive reminder that he 'wasn't her keeper' liable to follow. Neither came.

"I need to stay here," she replied, her eyes darting all over the room as her vision blurred with tears, she was shaking so hard it was a wonder she was still stood up. In an attempt to still the quivers she rapped her fingers against her thigh; the steady rhythm almost soothing.

"Jack won't let anything happen to her;" he approached her carefully, "she'll be safe here,"

"I'm her mother Daniel," she had to stay this time, last time she'd let them take the baby away and look what had happened.

Sometimes, despite her insistence that she had disowned her first child, that Adria was not her daughter, she found herself playing the 'what if' game. It was pointless and ultimately served no purpose but this was just a stark reminder as to how badly it had gone wrong the first time. This time she had no intention of leaving her child behind.

"We're not abandoning her," he said, and she heard a trace of panic in his voice, she moved to reassure him.

"I know you're not," she said, looking up at him "you need to go Daniel,"

"And you?"

"Lexy needs me here."

He hoped she didn't interpret it wrong, as him trying to force her to make a choice because that wasn't his intention; "I need you to come with me,"

Her face crumpled as the tears started and he felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over his head. Guilt bearing down in a crushing force; he'd done that. He'd done it because he was selfish enough to think he had the right to persuade her to follow him on a mission she had already said she did not want to go on. Swallowing hard he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her as tight as he dare. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder as she fought to stop crying.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair; the scent of watermelons overwhelming his senses, "you don't-"

"No," she pushed away from him a little; her palms flat against his chest, fingers plucking at a loose thread on his BDUs "I have to go,"

"Vala…"

She smiled, just seconds again he'd been trying to convince her to go with them, now he was trying to do the opposite? Only Daniel, she sighed lightly "no," she cut him off "it's just… I know I have to go but…" she blinked "what about Lexy?" That question was double edged, she knew that, but it didn't stop her asking it anyway.

There was nothing he could say to comfort her, so simply drew the much more delicate figure into his arms and held her tightly, hoping that, that at least would provide some sort of consolation.

* * *

The room that had been chosen for them to disembark from was empty and gray; the concrete walls cold and as uninviting as it were possible to be. It reminded Vala of a prison cell she had once had the 'pleasure' of spending three nights in her late teens, save for the fact that there was a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting obscure shadows up the walls as the light shone on the people filing into the room. The device had been placed on the floor, as of yet no one had gone near it.

The airman posted just outside the door nodded encouragingly at the group and reached for the door handle, asking Sam politely; "all ready ma'am?"

"Thank you," Sam nodded and the airman closed the door; the resounding click of the lock being turned echoed around the room.

"Good luck," Landry's voice came over the intercom.

The General, the remaining members of the Atlantis team, Beckett, Carolyn, Jack and Lexy were all visible through the window overlooking the room; each observing the occupants with varying degrees of solemn expressions on their faces.

"You're going to have to close the shield sir," Sam said, her voice catching slightly.

The General nodded and looked to the others; "if you have anything to say… say it now,"

Jack was the first to step forward, Lexy wriggling in his arms as he approached the microphone, holding the little girl close to it, "say bye to mommy and daddy," he said, jiggling her a little, "they'll be back soon,"

"Buh-bye," she said, and then as if to accentuate her point, she waved her pudgy hands through the window; delighted when she received several waves back.

"Stay safe," Jack added, the address was meant for the whole team but his eyes locked with Sam's for a long moment, even as he stepped back to allow Sheppard forward.

"Good luck," he said into the microphone before moving to step back, a boyish smile flickering to life; "stay out of trouble Mckay,"

Mckay glared up at him but even as he did it, he was well aware of what his friend was trying to say, he glanced at Ronon and Teyla, neither stepped forward and he knew that Sheppard had been speaking on behalf of all three of them.

"Good luck, the lot o' ye;" Beckett said, his blue eyes sad but his smile encouraging, his soft brogue floating through the intercom system.

Nick said nothing, merely gave a casual salute to the group. His already wrinkled features doing their best to crease into a smile, but failing miserably.

As silence fell, Landry's fingers moved to the button to close the shield, tapping the red button firmly the giant metal shutter began its steady descent, slowly closing the gap between the two groups. With barely two inches left before the screen locked into place, Carolyn spoke; "Cam?"

Mitchell rushed over to the box on the wall, pressing the communiqué button, "yeah?"

"Good luck," she whispered.

He swallowed "yeah," his voice was treacherously close to betraying him; he'd been fine until she spoke, and now… now it was all crashing down, everything he was looking at losing if this went wrong had been staring him in the face but he was a soldier, he could compartmentalize. He hadn't expected her to speak.

The microphone thudded as she disconnected, less than a second later it clicked back on "I love you," she murmured.

The tears were evident in her voice and it was the first time Cam had ever heard her so distressed; it felt like a rock was sinking in his stomach and his chest felt tight, all of sudden the only thing he wanted to do was call this mission off. Be stood in the observation galley with her but he couldn't. Despite what Landry said; _they had no choice_. "You too," he released the button and stepped away, closing his eyes as he hard the metal shutter thump into place.

Sam crouched by the device, flicking switches, taking readings and tapping codes and commands into the handheld that was attached to it. She was shaking so hard it was a wonder she was able to type anything straight. A shadow descended over the device and she knew without having to look that it was Mckay, probably coming to demand she take his assistance, therefore she was suitably surprised when, just as she was hesitating pressing the 'execute' command, she felt the other scientist tentatively take her hand and with the other, tapped the key instead of her. Bizarrely she felt no contempt for him. She barely had time to look at him in disbelief before the room filled with light and she was forced to squeeze her eye shut.

When the light cleared, her hand had already been released. Blinking harshly she saw Vala had buried her face in Daniel's chest, the pair only just pulling apart; their eyes looking equally as bleary as she was sure hers were. Cam appeared tense but his eyes were already wide and alert. Teal'c appeared entirely unaffected by the glare. Sam looked around for Mckay but the man was already on his feet, staring up at the observation galley. She followed his gaze and jumped a little when she saw the trio standing there.

"Hello," greeted an unfamiliar natural redhead, her voice chiming over the same intercom system they had just used to whisper heartfelt goodbyes; "and welcome to 2024,"

_Next Chapter: Time changes things. Perhaps too much. Perhaps not enough._


	4. Numero Dos

Chapter 4: Numero Dos

First off, a feeling of awe washed over her, then she did the math and she had to bite back a groan. Shooting Mckay a look she saw that the other scientist was looking equally dispirited but was expertly refusing to look at her. 2024… they'd arrived too early; _ten years_ early. Lexy would be… Sam glanced at her watch but it proved useless, the date still claiming it to be 2008.

"Hang on," the redhead said into the intercom, and the trio disappeared from the window.

"2024 huh?" Cam looked around the room as if the twelve-by-twelve concrete room was going to show him something new and exciting; one would have thought that going through the Stargate on a weekly base would be enough excitement for the man, but apparently not.

"That's early," Vala's eyes widened, panic spreading across her features as her gaze darted from Sam to Daniel in a rapid succession of movements, "we arrived early!"

Teal'c's eyebrow raised but he said nothing, if he had intended to he would have been cut off by the sound of the huge metal door sliding open; the grinding of the lock opening echoing around the room.

"Dawn Sullivan," the redhead said, smiling brightly, "um… I'm sure you know General Carter," she gestured to the woman on her left; her blonde hair was greying slightly, and far longer than Sam's own was, tied back into a neat ponytail, soft tendrils had come loose and framed her face.

"General?" Sam said, feeling a little breathless as she shook the proffered hand.

Carter smiled but Sam could see a darkness in her eyes that was unfamiliar and somewhat foreboding. She was shaken out of her reverie when Dawn continued.

"And Jack O'Neill,"

Leaning heavily on a cane but looking determined; as if he hadn't noticed and daring anyone else too he held out his free hand, shaking the nearest one offered firmly.

"If you don't uh… mind me asking, how did you know…?" Daniel asked as a somewhat uncomfortable silence followed.

Dawn smiled a little at him, her expression sort of torn between amusement, pride and sympathy as she answered his question with a suggestion of her own; "why don't we go to the briefing room. The General is expecting you,"

* * *

The corridors looked much the same even after sixteen years. The concrete walls as gray and cold as ever, and the briefing room looked little different. The blast shield over the window was down, making the room appear somewhat smaller than normal, but other than that, which was hardly something they had not seen before, it was the same. The same long table, the same chairs – though they had probably been replaced due to health and safety – and the flags still hanging softly from the flagpoles either side of the door to the General's office.

"If you want to take a seat…" Dawn said and it did not go unnoticed that the redheaded woman seemed to do most of the talking, she headed for the closed door of the General's office and rapped against it.

Carter was quiet and Sam found that despite herself, she was finding it very difficult not to look at her aged counterpart. The look in her eyes enticing but terrifying at the same time, the weary expression something that made a feeling of sincere unease settle in her stomach. The feelings seeing such an expression on a face so similar to her own elicited were uncontrollable, yet she stood no hope of understand them when she had no idea why they were there in the first place. Sixteen years is a long time. Sam found herself trying to catch Jack's eye but that was impossible, the crippled man leaning far to heavily on a his cane as he averted his gaze, focussing it only on following her other self around the room should he decide to focus it at all.

"Hello," the familiar drawl floated from the doorway to the General's office.

Sheppard was leaning casually on the door frame. His gravity-defying hair had not yet changed its behaviour save for the fact flecks of gray that wrought the dark strands and the lines around his eyes were more pronounced; he smiled genuinely at them, a certain fondness settling on his face, "it's good to see you,"

"General?" Mckay said in disbelief, eyes wide and his voice somewhat squeakier than normal

Despite the constant reminders from his team leader and friend when he had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and the high-risk, reckless behaviour of the other man hardly struck as General-like behaviour to the astrophysicist but these were soldiers not scientists, common sense and intelligence probably did not come into it.

Sheppard grinned "yup, nearly eleven years now," he said, his smug expression as real as anything else in the room, but seeming subsequently more authentic than any of the other faces that had been put on.

Something triggered in Sam's head and she turned to her counterpart. As if reading her mind – and Sam saw the irony in that turn of phrase – Carter answered almost instantly; "eleven years," a playful look was sent between herself and General Sheppard and silence followed once more.

Sheppard cleared his throat "why don't we all…" he gestured for the table and they moved to take their places.

"There's a lot to say," Carter started tactfully after a pointed look from the base Commander.

"Yeah," Jack scoffed gruffly "that's one way of putting it,"

Carter pursed her lips and gave him a poignant look.

"I think," Sheppard folded his hands on the desk, the sleeves of his BDUs rolled up to the elbow; he wasn't wearing dress blues which may or may not be significant, with Sheppard it as hard to tell, "the easiest way of doing this will be if you ask questions and we try and answer them as best we can,"

Cam nodded, "makes sense,"

"Fair enough," Sheppard said, "fire away,"

Suddenly thrust into a period they weren't yet supposed to see and given the unequivocal chance to ask anything they wanted, find out anything at all was somewhat overwhelming. It shouldn't be that easy, there should be ambiguous 'you can't know that's and 'I'm sorry I can't tell you's; not calm proclamations of 'fire away' and 'ask what you like'.

"How…" Sam began, glancing at Cam and nodding minutely at him to remain quiet for a moment "you can't tell us _everything_ surely," she voiced her queries.

"Why are you here?" Dawn asked gently, her voice was soft and lilting, her skin lily-white against the radiant locks framing her face; she sounded like an elementary school teacher only without the condescension.

"Adria," Daniel answered; "we need to know how to defeat her,"

There seemed to be a war raging inside of him as Sheppard fought to keep his expression as calm as possible, but even as he won that, his gaze handed and his jaw became tense; "we haven't," he answered after a moment.

"You… you haven't?" Mckay all but squeaked "what?"

Sheppard sighed the sigh of a weary man, suddenly looking much older than he had before, this was much harder than he had imagined, and it would be. They had been expecting a visit, they knew it was coming and maybe that had been the light in the desolation that had reigned for many years; "Sam?" he asked.

Sam looked up but realised he was talking to her counterpart, his dark eyes boring into the greying blonde's.

Carter took a breath "why don't you tell us when exactly you're from that way our stories don't overlap? And I can pick up where you leave off,"

"2008," Cam put in at the same time as Sam attempted to repeat the question Daniel had asked earlier; it was very concerning that they knew to expect the team from their past, it meant that they had failed surely, that there was no answer.

"Right… so that means. You've just defeated the Ori correct?"

"Yeah,"

Teal'c watched the exchange studiously, lips pressed tightly together and his feet planted firmly on the floor. He was not relaxed, and doubted he would be until the completion of this mission. His eyes flicked away from the conversation when he felt someone looking at him, he frowned when he saw the mysterious redhead who had welcomed them avert her gaze. Quickly coming to the conclusion that it was irrelevant he blocked it from his thoughts and went back to watching his companions.

Carter took another steadying breath "have you been to the Summit yet?"

There were several nods.

"Okay," she started "sorry for all the questions but… are you still using Arthur's Mantle?"

More nods.

"Good," Sheppard's comment was short, "keep it that way,"

It was difficult to figure out how exactly to do this. To explain the changes that had taken place in the time between their guests' time and this one. There was so much to say, so much that shouldn't be said but so much that had to be. Carter continued; "five years ago we received a message that you would be coming. It was dated from for months time,"

"As in…?" Cam started.

"Yeah," Sheppard nodded but offered nothing more.

"That's how we knew you were coming," Dawn said, risking a glance at Vala, a strange look on her face.

The expression was sort of fond but lonely as well and there were a thousand other emotions that the Vala did not and could not identify. It was unique and Vala did not know what to make of it; of any of this for that matter. A slow ache burned in her chest as she took in her surroundings, the new faces that shouldn't be so new, because they looked old, not physically, Sheppard and Sam looked as spry as ever. Sam's hair was a fair bit longer and it softened her features but… something about them made them seem far more aged than they should have been. A jaded sense of purpose and desperation; they were not foreign sights but together with something that seemed too dark to be voiced it was somewhat unnerving.

This was the world her daughter had grown up in, her baby. The baby she should be at home with now, nursing, caring for, and playing with. But at the same time she should be here, the impossible clause of a Catch-22 situation, she couldn't have it both ways, neither way was perfect, both ways meant loss, this was just the lesser of two evils. She was actively trying to save her daughter, to rescue her from a fate she did not deserve but now, seeing this, the burning sense of urgency that branded her soul even as she sat impatiently waiting for a story to be told that should never take place. She could feel the weight of desperation settling on her shoulders. The despairing knowledge that this was what awaited them was devastating and made her feel sick. This couldn't happen but instead of feeling motivated to do something to prevent it; she felt extreme sadness seeing that there was little that could be done.

"A lot has happened," Carter felt stupid even as she said it, "I'm not sure where to start, what you need to know exactly,"

"We need to know how to stop Adria," Vala said abruptly, "without using Lexy,"

"We don't know," Dawn said sadly "Adria…" she trailed off, swallowing harshly and avoiding looking at Vala meticulously "Adria's done a lot of damage… a lot of …" she stopped and tried again, blinking harshly and looking up again but failing to articulate any words of use.

Teal'c took pity on her, deciding to try a question that might be answerable, triggering a response so as they could get somewhere other than stuttered replies and clumsy avoidances of questions that desperately needed answers "where is General Landry?"

"Psychiatric institution in Washington," Sheppard answered, his tone detached.

Cam's eyes widened "what happened?"

"Eleven years ago there was a siege. Adria and her soldiers attacked the base, one hundred and twelve fatalities, hundreds more casualties… General Landry was…" his expression hardened "General Landry was tortured but she didn't kill him. He was transferred to the Washington institution when General Mitchell and Doctor Lam moved there,"

"General?" Cam couldn't help but smile at that.

Sheppard nodded; "same time as me and General Carter,"

There was a momentary silence, though its reasons were many no one decided why. Perhaps to commemorate the lost men and women of the siege, or in sympathy of General Landry, maybe as the numbers added up and it dawned on them the timings of the promotions and the siege. It didn't matter, it could have been anything, so many things to be said, so many things to be heard, dozens more that bore no relevance to the situation but it was a fierce battle with what should be kept secret and what shouldn't. Surely if something so bad happened that it was nearly impossible to bare, by telling their past selves they could change it, make a difference.

"Perhaps they should see it," Jack said "the note,"

Sheppard glanced at Carter who nodded her agreement and he pulled a creased envelope from his pocket. Flattening it as best he could, he slid it across the table to Vala. His eyes catching hers for a split second, she was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze as he almost scrutinised her. He flinched when her fingers brushed against his and she almost jerked back in response, instead she swallowed, and glanced at the message in her hands, suddenly lost as to what to do. The shaky yet graceful penmanship flowed across the envelope, printing the words; _'For the eyes of the Commanding Officer of Stargate Command only'_.

Seeing his wife freeze Daniel gently took the envelope from her, lifting the flap and pulling a piece of SGC stationary paper from inside, its creases were well worn as if it had been read many times, each delicate word poured over again and again as if their meaning was indecipherable.

_FAO, Commanding Officer of Stargate Command,_

_I am unsure as to when you will get this. I don't have much time, so many are dead and even more are injured. We cannot help them. There is nothing we can do. On the 30__th__ of June, 2024, a team consisting of Lt. Colonel Mitchell, Lt. Colonel Carter, Dr. Mckay, Teal'c, Dr. Jackson and Vala will visit you; I am unclear as to when exactly they come from. Help them. Trust them. Tell them what you can. Tell them they have too._

_Dr. Dawn Sullivan, PhD._

_November 12th 2024_

His eyes flicked across it again, reading it once, twice, three times before he felt the burning gaze of his companions bore into him. He passed the note to Sam, she read it aloud.

"I tell you," Sheppard smiled as Sam finished, attempting to lighten the mood in some sort of obscure fashion, "the 'when' part has us all confused for weeks,"

"We're not using her," Vala said again, it was repetitive but not annoying, the urgency in her voice as fresh and cutting as each time before. "There is no way I'm letting them use her," she looked defiantly at Daniel, as if she were completely forgetting the audience they had.

Daniel however, did not forget and instead took her hand, squeezing her smaller fingers in his palm reassuringly. There were no words he could think of to reply to that, none worth saying anyway. She knew what his reply would be anyway. In this situation words were useless.

"What does it mean?" Mckay started "are you saying we have to put a baby in front of the Orisi and see what happens?" his sarcasm was not as biting as usual, instead it was tainted with fear, weakening it's intensity considerably.

Dawn looked taken aback as he snapped at her, "me?"

"Well you sent the letter," he accused.

"Four months from now!" she retorted hotly.

"Hey!" Cam cut in "knock it off," he gave Mckay a pointed look and the astrophysicist backed down looking decidedly disgruntled.

"The fact is we don't know," Dawn said, "Arthur's Mantle is failing; we literally have months left. Adria's forces are stronger than ever before, it's only a matter of time before she attacks and if she does we have _no_ way of stopping her. Lexy is supposed to be the solution but she has no more idea than the rest of us and even if she did we have no right to expect her to do anything," she took a calming breath but it did no seem to work, her chest was heaving with pent up frustration.

"You really don't know?" Sam said, defeat heavy in the air, bearing down on them like a hungry darkness ready to engulf them all.

They shook their heads.

After an uncomfortable moment, Cam asked the inevitable; "where _is _Lexy?"

_Next Chapter: They came to the future for information, but how do you draw the line between the information you need and the things you find out anyway?_


	5. Mommy’s Little Action Hero

Chapter 5: Mommy's Little Action Hero

There were no words to describe it. It was an impossible feeling, twenty-three languages and still there weren't enough words in his head to come up with an accurate, truthful way to describe exactly what he was feeling. It irked him greatly because words were his forte. He was good with words, translations, understanding, comprehending and studying them as they prove or disproved theories, composed thoughts, feelings, actions. Words told tall tales of men in shining armour, damsels in flowing white gowns crying for help. Words were magnificent but there were none and it made him feel powerless.

The only words that made sense, that seemed to anywhere near equate to an understanding were _Lexy was his daughter_ but that didn't explain it, didn't define the million and ones things raging through his body. God only knows what Vala was going through.

He risked a glance at his wife but she was staring at Jack, the only one of the four people from this current period of time willing to focus on her. The way they averted their gaze was distracting. They would not look at either of them; it concerned him greatly but not enough for him to ponder it's meaning for too long, storing it in the back of his mind for later contemplation. For now he needed words, precious words so he could articulate what was going on inside him, explain it; study it; understand it. Measure the expressions carefully, taste them; _control them._

Many assumed he was impulsive and rash, jumping headlong into things without thinking first but they were wrong. He thought, he figured it out, did the equations in his head, determined every possible outcome, the reasons for them and what could happen if he did or didn't do something but the numbers he used apparently did not match with anyone else's therefore they deemed him wrong. But he wasn't; just different; not better, not worse, different. He was okay with different. Different was good.

His entire torso felt tight, like a thick rope was binding itself around his body, crushing his chest and fastening a ball of lead in his stomach. His head span. There was logic and emotion; the scientist and the father. He wished they were not two different people and up to this point they hadn't been, there had been no distinguishable boundary but now there was. There was a choice to make and he didn't want to make it. He couldn't. But he had too.

Daniel watched Vala through the corner of his eye. Making sure not to let her know he was observing her for she would surely have something to say about it. But at the same time he couldn't, not watch. What she must be going through was almost immeasurable compared to his. Both Adria and Lexy were her children, and she had to choose between them and whilst she frequently made the point of saying that Adria was not her daughter and never would be, she was and when it came to it, it would be unfair to expect Vala to, in short, murder her eldest child. Regardless of the lives Adria had taken or ruined, the people she had 'purged' with her pasty-faced priors and illusions of Gods that were merely ascended beings with ulterior motives to their brothers and sisters in the higher realms.

"It might be best if you wait a while before going to see Lexy. Surely you're tired?" Dawn tried feebly, her excuses mediocre at best.

"We're fine." Cam said slowly, recognizing aversion tactics when he saw them, "if you don't know how to stop Adria maybe Lexy does-"

"She doesn't," Dawn answered, "she has no idea. It's not fair to put her up to that,"

"What's going on?" Mckay said, suspicious, "something's going on,"

"There's a lot you don't know," Jack put in, "a lot you don't need too. Lexy's only sixteen for crying out loud, leave her out of this,"

"She's the best chance we've got," Sheppard mediated tentatively.

"Bullshit," Jack answered curtly, "she's a kid. We can't expect her to go marching off to war,"

"Why not?" Mckay quipped "what do you think the Air Force does?"

"That's different," Dawn put in.

"How?" Cam said hotly, "how is it different?"

Tears reached the redhead's eyes but she pushed them back. "It just is – you know nothing about this timeline. Please don't make this difficult,"

"Look," Daniel spoke as softly as he could, however his determination to get to the bottom of the situation was in no way subtle; "we need to see her,"

"You will," Dawn answered, "just not yet,"

"Why?" Vala jumped in, "is something wrong? Is she okay? She's alive isn't she?" the panic edging into her voice was obvious and threatening to become hysteria.

"She's alive," Carter quickly placated, "she's perfectly healthy but I think until we know more about what you need, and where – or _when_ – you're from, it's probably best to leave her out of it,"

"I want to see her," Vala demanded, "now,"

Carter looked pleadingly at General Sheppard, silently begging with him to come up with a solution to quiet these strangers. She was unsuccessful as he was far too busy looking steadily at Daniel, brow furrowed in concentration and deep in thought; "when did she return from Atlantis?" he asked, as if it mattered.

"Early hours of this morning," Jack answered.

Sheppard nodded then a moment later; "she'll be in the gym," he said and chairs scraped across the floor as the group got to their feet. "Carter go with them,"

"John…" she started.

"Sam," he replied, allowing her to catch his eye, and giving her a significant look; her use of his first name did not go amiss and he knew what she was trying to do and it wasn't going to work.

He did not have the ability to order her around and he would not do so even he did. However, he was commanding officer of the base, she had refused the promotion, rebuking it for reasons he could not argue with, however someone needed to accompany the group and despite his protestations, Jack was not fit for it and Dawn was needed in the labs.

Carter understood his reasoning but that did not mean she had to agree with it. She could easily say no, walk out of the room and refuse to show these… people… anything but if she didn't, someone else would and even if not, they knew where Lexy was. They would go there even with no escort; she nodded and got to her feet, "okay," she said, heading for the door, head down as she avoided eye contact.

"Sam," Sheppard said.

She looked up.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Carter nodded smartly and when he smiled a little at her, she tried to send one in reply, but it was difficult, he knew why and she was grateful he understood. They had all been through so much, driving them together as a unit more than ever but these bonds were being tested beyond practical measures, and it would only be so long before they snapped.

* * *

The marine gave a loud battle cry that echoed off the walls as he charged the figure in the centre of the mats. She flipped him neatly, rapping him sharply across the back of the legs with the bantos stick as he stumbled back to his feet. This same move was repeated several times as each of the seven marines took their turn, each giving their own attempt at disarming the blindfolded young woman in the middle of the training mats, each failing.

Her heart was pounding her ears; the coarse black fabric scratched her skin as it covered her eyes. She was relying solely on her sense of hearing to know what was going on. The heavy breathing of the disgruntled marines was almost as loud as her heartbeat; she heard a clumsy footed stagger as another lunged towards her; only this time instead of blocking a punch she felt the hard wood of the bantos stick slam against her back. She stumbled, biting back a cry of pain as she whirled around.

There was an almighty clatter as the sticks collided, slapping against each other almost rhythmically. The beat getting faster and faster as she backed the marine up against a wall, she knew when he had hit it as his breathing stuttered before coming to a breathy halt as he held it, she pressed the stick lightly against his larynx. She dropped the second stick and tore off her blind fold, grinning at the marine; "nice work Dexter," she congratulated, stepping away, and wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead; her fringe clung to her skin, the tendrils that had fallen from her ponytail curling around her face and neck. She was breathing heavily.

"Yeah right," Dexter said, leaning on his knees and panting like a dog "you're too fucking good," he spat.

His tone was venomous but she knew he meant well, it was his own obscure way of complimenting her; she ruffled his hair casually as she moved over to the bench and picked up a towel, scrubbing it across her face and slinging it around her neck.

"Lexy,"

"I'm kind of in the middle of-" she turned as she spoke, recognizing her Godmother's voice instantly, she trailed off almost as soon as she caught sight of the group in the doorway.

Vala watched the fluid movements of the woman in the middle of the mat as she deflected the attacks of the marines like one would swat a fly. She was well toned, her skin tanned and unmarked. Blonde-brown hair tied in a ponytail, the curls cascading down her back in a bright contrast against the black of her military-issue tank top. When she had stopped her seemingly effortless movements, the purple highlights were instantly clear.

Lexy's tanned skin paled, the pink flush in her cheeks turning a ghostly white, her eyes were so wide it was as if they were about to pop out of her head; "what the _hell_ is going on?" she demanded the second she found her ability to speak again, the marines were standing equally still, the exit blocked and the drama unfolding to good too miss, their faces just as shocked looking; "what the _fuck_!"

"Lexy…" Carter took several steps forward, "just-"

"What on… How… _what the fuck?" _she shrugged away from her Godmother's touch, flinching when she tried to make contact.

"Let me explain," she reached for her Goddaughter's elbow.

"Don't you dare touch me," her eyes were flashing dangerously, her tone equally foreboding, "how the-"

"Lexy!" Carter admonished before she could finish her sentence.

"They…" she stepped back, "are _not _real. You can't… is this some kind of sick joke?"

"It's not a joke Lexy,"

"Stop saying my name," the teen ordered tonelessly, "just stop it,"

Vala watched the emotions flickering across her daughter's face. It was amazing; she was so… so beautiful, strong, elegant. Her cheekbones set high and her eyes as blue as ever, frameless glasses settled on her petite nose. Her hair curly and vibrant; the colours caught the overhead lights of the gym when she moved. She exuded the air of a well-trained, self-disciplined young woman. But the fear in her eyes made Vala's chest ache; she struggled to find her voice and when she did the only word that would come to her mouth was; "hey,"

Whatever response she had been expecting, the look of absolute terror was not it; and it left her breathless, tearing her in two as she watched her daughter look at her with such disgust, such _fear_ that it made her physically shake. Lexy's chest was heaving only now it didn't seem to be from simple exertion but from a much more ominous cause. However her response had been enough for Vala to freeze completely, eyes as wide as her daughter's, her throat constricting painfully.

Lexy found herself staring at Vala, unable to tear her eyes away from her. This was… no, no, _no! _She threw her towel down on the bench she had retrieved it from, moving from the room without saying a word once she had managed to break eye contact she made a distinct attempt to avoid it being recaptured; by anyone. Refusing to duck her head in a display of what would inevitably be perceived as weakness she simply averted her gaze, storming out of the door without a single look back.

"Ma'am," Dexter was the first to straighten up and salute at Carter as she glanced helplessly around the room, gaze skimming across the marines purposelessly.

She nodded at him; "at ease," she muttered absently, swallowing hard before turning back to face the group from the past.

"What was that?" Cam said, being the only one able to vocalise a thought.

Daniel and Vala were staring hopelessly after the teen. Teal'c's eyebrows raised so far they had all but disappeared into his hairline and, for once, Mckay seemed to be taking the tactical route and not saying anything.

Carter resisted the urge to scream at them, because that's what she honestly felt like doing. They had spent years planning, plotting and basing everything up until this point, meeting their past selves, to tell them something new but what they wanted to know they couldn't give them.

The whole concept was mind boggling; a note from the future warning them of a visit from the past, it had not happened to them – she had never jumped forwards in time in 2008, there had been no way of doing so, the Asguard device had not worked and she had spent weeks working on it before she had been forced to admit defeat… how did any of this work? How could Dawn send a spine-chilling note from November of this year, to an essentially random year, telling them they would receive a visit from themselves from the year 2008, when not one of them ever remembered doing it? It had never happened in this timeline. Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

But this… this was far more difficult than they had originally thought it would be. In their imaginations it had been simple, their counterparts complacent and willing to cooperate. The destruction that had taken place since the defeat of the Ori could be told like horror stories, with a detached sense of purpose that elicited no emotion, no feelings. It had been a fairytale. They should have known by now, fairytales don't exist, happy endings are rare and nothing is ever easy. But they hadn't, holding onto Dawn's message like a beacon of anticipation, guiding them, offering them a sliver of hope; reality was, it was nothing like that at all.

"General Carter," Teal'c prompted, taken aback when tear filled, blue eyes fixed on him, searching for something, but even she wasn't sure what it was.

"Sam," Daniel said and Sam automatically glanced at him, but he was looking right past her, staring at Carter, begging for an explanation but he could see she was struggling and he tried to be patient, he really did but it was taking considerably more effort than it normally did.

Carter swallowed, a deep sadness settling across her like a veil as she forced herself to make eye contact with Daniel and Vala; "you died." she said, voice soft and catching in her throat; they did not know the exact date and never would. "July, 2017, both of you died." Tears pricked at her eyes and did not try to stop them as they trickled down her cheeks. "Lexy had just turned nine,"

_Next Chapter: As Daniel and Vala struggle to come to terms with the knowledge of their deaths, Lexy isn't dealing with the visit very well; or indeed, at all._


	6. Precedence

_Disclaimer: Possible allusions to Atlantis' 'First Strike'._

Chapter 6: Precedence

There was no sound. No gasps of horror. No exclamations of surprise. No nothing. It was silent. It was terrifying.

The pressure was building inside her like a dam, pulsing angrily beneath her skin, coursing like ice through her veins, freezing everything solid. Her muscles were burning and tense even though she was standing still. Her heart was in her throat, thick, heavy and uncomfortable, she tried to swallow and felt panic rising when she struggled to do so. Goose-flesh prickled against her skin, and tears stabbed like needles against her eyes, even as she had given into them, they were too fast and too many.

The fairytale was over. The magical charm was broken. This was so difficult, so very, very difficult. Seven years since she had seen those faces and she had spent weeks, months even, wishing she could see them just one more time, for a second get to see her friend's faces again, only now she had that opportunity and she wasn't sure she was capable of it. You find, when you see someone every day, on a regular basis, you often don't see them, well you do, if asked what colour shirt they were wearing, or how their hair was styled could probably report with little effort, but you don't _see _them, you don't look. She knew if she started she wouldn't be able to stop; she would end up staring incessantly at them, no reprieve, no blinking for fear she might miss something.

"How?" Vala whispered; she was barely audible.

"I can't tell you,"

She can't or she wouldn't? Was there a difference? She didn't want to be the bad guy, she couldn't stand there and watch her friends look at her with such horror all over again as she revealed the ugly truths. Truths she wasn't sure of because she didn't know. Not really. She knew what she had been told, and what she'd been told had been vague and shaky on the sickening details that she knew would make things worse but wanted anyway because then her anger had purpose, it didn't feel so all-encompassing.

"How did we die?" Vala all but screamed, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"How?" Daniel choked a little on his words; "what happened?"

"That's not my place to say,"

"How can it not be your place to say?" Cam stepped in, eyes narrowed and his entire body seeming fizzing with frustration.

Why did they have to be so difficult? Why couldn't they stop pouring salt in old wounds and leave them be? There was nothing to tell them, the answers they wanted couldn't be given because no one knew. Instead of seamlessly fitting in, sliding into this reality with ease they were tearing great holes in everything, needing to know why and how and who and when, their past selves couldn't just accept that somewhere along the road everything had gone wrong. They'd lost so much; the death toll well into the hundreds; they were fighting a war they stood no chance of winning but they were doing it anyway because at this point, there was nothing else they could do but build the barricades, train the soldiers and promise to go down fighting.

Carter caught her younger self's eye, the usually soft blue piercing, pleading silently for an answer, a requiem, a raucous cry of _'you've been punk'd!'_ or a badly timed _'April Fools!'_ She wished she could give that to her.

"You just told us we died dammit. _How?_" Vala all but shrieked, her voice sounding almost hoarse and it looked as if she was about to fly at Carter in a rage; Daniel would hold her back should she try. Carter knew that and it sent another coil of grief through her gut; this was so _unfair_.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to run from the room after Lexy, lie to her, tell her it was a trick of the light, a hallucination. Or better yet go home and cook dinner, act like nothing had happened; as if she, an orphaned sixteen year-old and a semi-crippled former USAF General could equate to a family. They should be planning Lexy's seventeenth, not ripping what remained of her life to pieces all over again, scattering them like ashes and sitting back to watch her scramble to put them back together.

"I really…" she started, but she wasn't sure how; how was she supposed to tell a story that should never be told? Explain to them what happened when she didn't know, or maybe it was that she didn't _want _to know, and by telling them it was finally made real, even though it had been seven years since she had seen them, smiling and happy; a family, she swallowed "look… I can't… I shouldn't be the one telling you," the looks she got were venomous and desperate, she could not cave, she _would_ not cave. "It's not something any of us know clearly," _liar, liar,_ the chant in her head was like a mantra; it would not quiet "Lexy…" she swallowed again, the lump in her throat the size of a large watermelon "Lexy is the only one that knows,"

* * *

Carter shook her head, trying to clear it and failing as she sat in the technician's chair, waiting for the video feed to be accepted, her foot tapped an arrhythmic beat on the floor and when she caught herself she made a conscious effort to stop. Their 'visitors' were once more with General Sheppard; she had taken them back there as soon as she had been able and bolted without even giving Sheppard a chance to say a word.

The screen above her head sprang to life, crackling briefly before the picture became perfectly clear; "Hey there General," Cassie said brightly, her smile genuine.

She had, had this all planned out in her head, reciting it during the heavy silence that had reigned on the way back from the gym but now all the calm queries of how everyone was, and what was life like out in Pegasus – the frivolous questions everyone asked to be polite – flew from her head and all she could do was feel anger, frustration and disappointment; "you were supposed to tell her,"

Cassie's face dropped, "Sam-"

"No," Carter cut her off "no excuses Cassie, you _promised_. You told General Sheppard and I that you would tell her about the letter; you were the reason we didn't ask Rodney too,"

"She was happy Sam!" Cassie argued, "she was actually happy for the first time in a very long time she was genuinely smiling – do you even remember what she looks like when she smiles? As in _really_ smiles?"

"Cassie that's not fair-"

"Nor are a lot of things," the young woman answered, "but she deserves every bit of happiness she can get,"

"We thought she knew!" Carter exclaimed hotly, "they arrived, and asked to see her!"

Cassie blanched; "you didn't…"

Carter scowled, "of course we did! She's their daughter we couldn't just tell them no – _we thought she knew!"_

Cassie looked decidedly guilty but at the same time as if she was not yet willing to give up her stance, which, Carter found herself grudgingly admitting was a reasonably good one and that if she had been in Cassie's position – no, no she wouldn't have done it like this because she would have had the _common sense_ to think about what would happen if she didn't. Cassie should have realised… that wasn't fair, how could she blame Cassie? She had made her decision and it hadn't been the wrong one, it had just been the… less right? That didn't make sense. Cassie should have told her.

"Look," Cassie sighed softly, "I know I should have told her. I know that. I kept telling myself I'd tell her but every time… look I'm sorry but you have to understand that I couldn't do that to her,"

"Well you did anyway," Carter's reply was riddled with spite.

Cassie looked hurt and the older woman immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," Carter apologized; "I didn't mean it like that,"

"No," Cassie said wearily, "you did," then added; "its okay, I get it. I shouldn't have said I'd tell her if I couldn't but I genuinely thought I could…"

Carter sighed. "I do understand Cassie," she said gently. "I just wish… I don't know…"

There was a long pause before Cassie spoke; "it's hard isn't it?" she grimaced in sympathy.

Carter gave a wry smile.

* * *

"We're dead!" Vala exclaimed, cutting her husband off, not that he was entirely sure what he was supposed to say, maybe something similar to what she had, maybe not, his mind was reeling too much to figure it out.

Sheppard blinked. Probably not an appropriate response, but he wasn't sure what else to do; eleven years in this position and he _still_ couldn't figure out how Landry or O'Neill hell even Hammond had managed to take everything in stride and keep walking, heads held high as they fought through mountains of paperwork and dealt with impossible situations. He wasn't sure how to react, maybe he'd boxed it away with everything else; he barely had time to breath anymore, never mind think about how he felt, study every emotion that flickered through him. Maybe he'd taken the coward's way out; throwing himself into everything vaguely resembling work as soon as the news had come that they had lost two members of their premiere team.

They'd had a service, paid their tributes and given them every possible honour they could physically bestow upon them, but the second he had stepped down from that podium, had finished talking about two people he barely knew as he looked straight into the eyes of their nine-year-old daughter, speaking of pride and valour, bravery and a dozen other things he couldn't remember, he had zoned out. Processing every possible piece of information he could gather, turning to fact because it was easier to deal with. There had been arrangements to organise, phone calls to make, medical reports to review, mission reports to read. An IOA meeting three weeks away he had to plan for, personnel checks, security clearances to give his approval or recommendation too and to pass to a higher level…

"Why don't we sit down?" he moved from his office, easing past the irate – and understandably so – woman in the doorway into the briefing room and gesturing for them to take their seats; he just caught sight of Carter leaving as he took his seat, he did not try to call her back, "I'm sorry," he began.

"Sorry?" Daniel echoed, "You're _sorry_?"

Cam looked slightly taken aback at the archaeologist's tone of voice; he glanced at Mckay who was looking at him with equal surprise.

"There are some things that-" so much for cool, calm and measured; acting as if he had the faintest idea what he was doing.

He felt like a child playing make-believe in daddy's office; sitting in the big chair whilst his father made business deals in the next room. This still didn't feel right, he still felt like he was fumbling blindly in the dark, but there had been no one else to take the job. Carter had declined it for personal reasons and Sheppard sympathised with her greatly over them, she still helped where she could but the pressure would have been too much at the time and Sheppard accepted and understood that. Mitchell had refused it, accepting the offer of a post in Washington shortly after, due to an irreparable altercation between himself and his team. Even knowing the circumstances of both, he still felt a little out of his depth running the SGC, he still dreamt of dodging wraith darts, performing loop-de-loops in puddle jumpers and running through the underbrush drenched in sweat, a P-90 clutched to his chest and his legs burning with exertion. He missed it, but that wasn't his place anymore, hadn't been in a long time.

"How did we die?" Daniel asked, in two minds as to whether or not he wanted to know but asking anyway because Vala seemed like she needed to and seeing his little girl so… seeing her like that was heartbreaking.

"It's not my-"

"Don't," Vala cut in, "just don't. Don't say you can't tell us,"

"I can't," Sheppard answered, adding hastily. "Honestly. It's not my place to tell you, there are some things you are better off not knowing,"

"What _can_ we know?" Mckay snapped; "you said ask anything, they do and it's all 'sorry, that's off limits'; what exactly are we entitled to know?" then; "what're you staring at?"

Sheppard looked pained but at the same time a sort of fond expression came across his face, as if the vicious sniping was something he had missed but that was absurd…

"Oh my God!" the astrophysicist cried, paling, "I'm not dead am I?"

"No!" Sheppard exclaimed abruptly, then calmly a little "no, you're not dead,"

Mckay gave an audible sigh of relief.

"Okay," the dark-haired General said, "how about I tell you what I can, sort of cliff notes version and we take it from there?"

"Sounds okay to me," Sam said, shrugging a little.

"Right," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "um… easiest place to begin…" he seemed to be thinking aloud "the siege, okay…" There would be parts he would have to miss out purely because they, like the death of Daniel and Vala, were not something he had the right to say, something that there was no need for them to know, and if they found out, it would not be from him "me, Ronon, Teyla and Mckay were Earth side for a few days. We'd just arrived when Adria's troops attacked and the siege lasted... hours," he hesitated, voice quietening "over a hundred people died," he paused, looked at Daniel and continued "Nick Ballard was one of them,"

Sam reached for Daniel's hand on the table, squeezing it gently before releasing it; he nodded swiftly at her, setting his jaw after glancing at her and returning back to watching Sheppard.

"General Landry was driven insane and after psychiatric treatment here, he was transferred to a facility in Oregon, then later to Washington. The three of us," he gestured to Sam, himself and Cam "received promotions shortly afterwards. The Command was temporarily run by the then Mr. Woolsey,"

"Then?" Mckay found himself asking.

"He got elected as President two years ago," his brow furrowed and it was easy to see his disapproval "he's as much of a whiny little asshole as he is in your time I would imagine,"

There were a few chuckles around the table but none strong enough to lighten the mood.

"Anyway, Woolsey took command as myself and Mitchell were leading the rescue and aid teams to the various other planets which we received word had been attacked shortly before the attack on us and Carter had…" he paused for a second, "been injured… too badly to take the position at the time. A year later, Mitchell moved to Washington, taking Doctor Lam with him and I was appointed."

"Congratulations," Sam smiled weakly at him.

He smiled back "thanks," he said though he spent a lot of time feeling anything but 'thankful' about his position "soon after we received word of an explosion in Atlantis' main control tower… Doctor Weir was one of the fatalities,"

Mckay looked a little nauseas. Sheppard hoped he wasn't going to be sick.

"A council was elected to run Atlantis after that. At the moment it consists of Cassie Fraiser, Captain Wells, Doctors Beckett and Mckay, Teyla and Colonel Lorne,"

"This is all very nice," Vala said sardonically, "but I still don't understand… what happened to _us_?" she gestured at herself and Daniel "what about him," she pointed at Teal'c "and this… this Dawn woman, who the hell is she?"

Sheppard sighed patiently, choosing to ignore the first question "Teal'c," he turned to the jaffa who inclined his head in acknowledgement "is on Dakara, there's been trouble with the Jaffa recently and he's helping out and Dawn…" this was probably one of the few pieces of good news, "Dawn is Teal'c's wife,"

Teal'c blinked.

Cam clapped him on the back, grateful to be told something other than death, destruction and pain "she's hot, man," he smirked.

Mckay raised an eyebrow.

Sheppard found himself grinning "she's an astrophysicist," he informed Teal'c, it felt bizarre but at the same time he felt almost giddy; he glanced at his watch, information they did not necessarily require but it was something good, something fresh; both of which rare commodities these days; "I think she's collecting Darryl from day care at the moment,"

"Darryl?" Teal'c frowned; "who is… Darryl?"

"Your son,"

* * *

Jack was not a contemplative man; an average kid that had grown into a pretty average man. He was nothing spectacular, gruff, rude, with an attitude for everyone and an answer for everything. He had learnt a long time ago that the more people you surround yourself with, the more people you care about, the more it hurts when you lose them. It never hurts any less, that's lies, you don't get used to it, you can't, and it's always the same, always painful, always a dull, burning, scalding ache beneath the skin, a choke-hold on your throat, a chain around your chest and a voice in the back of your head saying over and over 'what if' and 'why didn't you'. The more it happens the more it hurts, the more faces you see in a drunken stupor, the more voices you hear calling for your help in your nightmares, screams of agony, cries of terror and the heart-broken accusations of broken promises that he'd protect them, save them, _look out for them_.

He did not want to think about the details of the situation, the ins and outs of it, how totally screwy it was to be looking at living, breathing incarnations of his best friend and his best friend's wife. It was nothing new. He wasn't crazy. He knew his dreams were dreams and his nightmares, nightmares. He knew that he was just imagining it, wishing to hard when he walked through the Archaeology department and saw Daniel studying a rock under a microscope, Vala sitting on the desk, swinging her legs and pestering her husband as was usual, telling him ludicrous tales he wasn't listening too then asking for his credit card which he would absently hand over more times than was excusable.

He knew that when bickering with Lexy and suddenly seeing his friend's face, hearing his friend's voice, was not strictly normal but he craved it too much to walk away. Often, when his guard was down and there was nothing to occupy his time with he would seek out his God-daughter, bating her into a heated debate just to be reminded of the memories that had faded too much for him to admit. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. But he wasn't crazy.

Entering the commissary it took him no more than a minute to spot the purple-highlighted head of his God-daughter amongst the throng of SGC personnel as they gathered for lunch, talking loudly over the tables and forcing themselves to swallow less than gourmet food prepared so diligently by the commissary staff who were still as monosyllabic as ever. The slump in her shoulders made his chest tighten; he adjusted his grip on the infernal cane he was forced to rely on since he had nearly had both his kneecaps blown off in Adria's attack on the base.

He jumped straight to the point, hovering over Lexy as she used her fork to push her mash potato around her plate, "you were supposed to know," Jack said, she was sat alone, which was not unusual, she had spent so much time on Atlantis, that whilst that every person in the mountain and associated in anyway with the command knew precisely who she was, none dare presume they knew her enough to actually sit with her.

"Know what?" she said, stabbing the pathetic – and somewhat hard – potato viciously.

He said nothing, choosing instead to take a seat because his knee was causing him too much discomfort to pass the opportunity up.

She dropped her fork with a clatter "know what Uncle Jack?" she said, fixing him with a potent look, "that you all had some sort of intervention planned?"

"Nothing was planned kid," he assured her.

"But you knew," she accused, hurt creeping into her voice, "you knew they were coming,"

Jack paused, licking his lips before replying "yes,"

Lexy shook her head dismissively, glancing down at her plate of incredibly unappealing food before looking up again "how long?"

"Five years," he replied quietly.

"Five…" she started, blue eyes wide, "five _years_. You knew? You knew for _five years_ that they were gonna show up?" she didn't give him time to reply, "five years and you couldn't find the time to tell me?"

"Sam spoke to Cass before you went to Atlantis," Jack replied "she was going to ask Mckay too but-"

"He knew too?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Look Lexy," Jack shifted in his seat, "Cass promised she would-"

"You and Aunt Sam should have told me! I should have known the second you did!"

"Neither Doc Mackenzie or Doc Beckett thought it would be in your best interests," the line sounded parroted and wrong but he ignored the thought.

"They were my _parents!"_ Lexy cried, "I don't care what they thought. Mackenzie just wants to have everyone locked in a padded cell anyway; why listen to a word he had to say?"

Jack frowned, "Lexy, you weren't even living on Earth when we got that message. You were a kid and as your legal guardians it was up to me and Sam to decide what was best for you, and you weren't even living with us at the time!"

Lexy glared at him before looking stubbornly down at her food again. Jack sighed and heaved himself back to his feet, squeezing her tense shoulder gently before leaving the commissary all together.

_Next Chapter: As Daniel and Vala learn more about the life their daughter has led, old faces make new entrances… is there more than meets the eye with some of them?_


	7. Intergalactic Airport

Chapter 7: Intergalactic Airport

The quarters they had been shown to were sparsely decorated and perhaps even less welcoming than those in their own time but Sheppard had apologized profusely and shown them to their rooms personally. Despite the indignant protestations of one airman who apparently was rubbing elbows with people in the IOA for he firmly believed that it was 'not the General's place'. Needless to say Sheppard ignored him and shrugged off any questions from his guests as to why he had not rebuked the young officer more firmly.

The fact that there had been some effort to make the drab rooms more welcoming was obvious however some what ad hoc; a painting had been roughly stuck on the wall, slanted, BDUs were folded neatly on the unmade bed along side sheets, pillow cases and a mattress that was half a foot too short for the bed; one would have thought that they were standard issue but apparently, not anymore.

"I hate this," Vala said, as Daniel flicked on the light, studying the room with a swift sweep of his eyes.

"I know," he had little idea as to what else to say, there was so much to think about, so much on his mind, it was small wonder he was able to reply to her at all.

"_Lexy is the only one that knows,"_

What did that mean? Or more importantly, what did it imply? He didn't want to think about it too deeply. The knot in his stomach that had formed at the news of his death had not dissipated. He had died before, too many times, but he had, why was this time any different to him? _He_ was still alive, he hadn't actually _died,_ at least not yet... but in this time line he had. Seven years ago. Seven years ago he and Vala had died, no one would tell them how or by what means. Just that they had, leaving a nine-year-old girl to fend for herself in a world that was falling apart.

There was so much that wasn't being said and it was frustrating, it really was. They needed answers, not even to their original question any more, everything was about Lexy. Lexy was the key. She didn't just _have _the answer, she was the answer but they couldn't get near her. She almost… she was _scared_ of them and that was just so inherently wrong it made his head spin.

His baby, his beautiful little girl was grown up. She'd been standing less than twelve feet from him and… she had moved so gracefully, so purposefully, each action carefully measured, calculated in her head before executed. Then she had stopped, turned, sharp eyes growing wide and darkening almost beyond recognition. Her lithe body tensing and backing away, unable to tear her eyes off of them but with such terror in her eyes it scared even him. Her voice outstanding, fresh but so filled with anger and despair and horror it was shaking, cursing magnificently as she stared before all but running from the room. It had taken everything he had not to go chasing after her.

Daniel jumped when he heard a loud thud and the toiletries stacked neatly on the dresser clattered to the floor, the pillow following suit a moment later. He turned to Vala who was sat on the end of the bed, head in her hands, breathing hard, moving seamlessly over to her he sat down, touching her back; "Vala…"

She shrugged him off. "Don't," she snapped, then calmer as she looked up "just don't," she got to her feet and picked up the pillow, shoving it roughly into a pillow case.

"Hey," he tried to attract her attention.

She ignored him as he stood up.

"It's okay," no it wasn't, they were dead, the world was going to hell and their own daughter hated them, of course it wasn't okay. "We'll fix-"

"Oh for goodness sake Daniel!" she snapped, glaring at him. "We're dead!"

"We're not dead!" he exclaimed because _they_ weren't, they just had to find out how they died in this timeline so they could stop it, do something different, stop the siege and all the dozens of other things that had evidently gone disastrously wrong in the passed sixteen years… or the sixteen years to come… or… whatever.

"Yes we are!" she answered, moving around the bed to him, "yes we are dead, _we_," she poked him the chest and pointed at herself, "may not be, but to everyone else in this time we are. To Lexy we are,"

"But we can stop it,"

She snorted derisively. "How are we supposed to stop something we know nothing about? We came here to find out how to stop Adria and as it turns out, she can't be stopped," she threw the pillows down on the floor and shook out the sheet, barely even noticing when Daniel went to help her tuck it around the mattress; "they aren't going to tell us anything,"

"Lexy might," he replied, even though he knew how fruitless trying to talk to the teen would be.

"Oh yes," she sniped, "because it went so well the last time we saw her,"

It hurt. It hurt so much she could barely breathe. She was dead. She'd left her little girl to grow up without her mother. Her first born was the biggest evil they had ever had to face and her second was sixteen years old and watching her entire world crumble at her feet. It was so overwhelming. There was so much more to know, so much more they had too, but at the same time, could they handle all that information if, by some miracle, they did manage to wheedle it out of these obstinate people who called themselves their 'friends'?

Daniel watched helplessly as she wrestled with the duvet a moment before tossing it on the bed with huff. "I'm going for a walk," she announced, stalking over to the door, flinging it open; an airman instantly standing in the frame.

"Anything I can help you with ma'am?" the young woman asked politely.

Vala glared at her; "excuse me,"

"I'm sorry," she sounded genuinely apologetic, "I'm not allowed to let you leave unaccompanied,"

Vala made an irritated sound, coming just short of screaming before slamming the door in the poor woman's face and making for the bathroom, slamming that door behind her also.

* * *

"Morning," Sheppard greeted, glancing absently over his shoulder as they filed into the control room, he smiled sympathetically at them "I'd ask you how you slept but…"

Cam was the only one to smile back at him.

"What're we waiting for?" Mckay asked, peering through the window and seeing nothing other than the empty 'gate room below; the iris closed; he presumed that was the constant state of being for the shield now.

Sheppard just nodded in the direction of the 'gate and Mckay huffed loudly but got no reply.

"Incoming wormhole!" Walter declared as the klaxons roared "Atlantis' IDC,"

The iris swished open and the Kawoosh burst through the 'gate with its familiar roar before stabilising into the somewhat soothing pool of blue. The ramp rattled as two people emerged; one a young woman in BDUs and the other, a far more familiar face sporting his usual Atlantis uniform.

"Is that… that's _me!" _Mckay cried, staring at the figure now at the bottom of the ramp; his hair was a fair bit thinner but longer and flecked with a suitable amount more grey than Sheppard's was "once again your hair has defied all logic," he accused somewhat moodily.

Sheppard laughed, before tapping the extension and speaking into the intercom, "Lexy-Claire Jackson to the Gate room," he said "there are some people here to see you,"

"On my way," Lexy's voice chimed through.

"Who's that?" Sam asked, gesturing to the young woman.

"That," Sheppard answered "would be Captain Janet Wells,"

"As in…?"

Sheppard nodded. "She's a excellent soldier," he said, turning back to face the 'gate room as the blast doors slid open, "and the closest thing Lexy has to a best friend," he said as the two girls greet one another enthusiastically. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, turning to the team "had breakfast?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ok-ay then… why don't we head on up to the briefing room and I'll see if there's anything more to tell you,"

Cam sighed. His patience wearing thing already and they hadn't been in this time period for twenty four hours yet. Words like 'if' and 'can't' were beginning to sound distinctly like 'don't want too' and 'not going to say'; yes he understood that there were some things they couldn't know, or strictly speaking shouldn't because of how it would change the timeline but what could possibly be left in this world that they wanted to preserve? And even so if, if they _couldn't_ say then why did they make such a point of starting the tale before going 'oops, can't say anything more'?

They'd already had two briefings since arriving and both of them had not ended particularly well, what was to say this one would be any better? Not to mention the fact that they had already told the team that two of its members had died almost a decade ago, what could possibly be worse than that? He ignored the rock that had settled in his stomach upon the news that his friend's deaths were far closer than they had originally come to assume for whilst he was, essentially, on Earth's first – and last – line of defence, and the glaring reality of death was all to familiar to him, each time he, or one of his colleagues managed to survive another impossible situation there came the ridiculous notion that they were some how untouchable despite the fact that they were all to aware that they _were._

The briefing room was stuffy when they got there, and Cam thought for a moment it might simply be because he was dreading the debates that would follow. It wasn't as fun as he had imagined. That little boy in the back of his mind that had been cheering and shouting about being able to see the future, meet older versions of himself and his friends, seeing the outcomes of their actions had shut up and he was left only with the man. A man who was unnerved by seeing his companions nearly twenty years older, the future was something to fear not to celebrate and what they did… what they did had amounted to nothing; it left him with an overwhelming feeling of defeat.

"So uh…" Daniel began, hoping to break the morbid silence that had befallen the room; "where'd Doctor Mckay and Janet come from?"

Sheppard seemed subconsciously relieved that he was being thrust back into the hot-seat, with scared demands and horrified faces staring him in the eye; "the people on P4S LX9 had some difficulty with their computer mainframe and asked us to help out. Janet volunteered as a military escort,"

Daniel nodded thoughtfully, the gesture, on anyone else, would have seemed as though he were simply placating the other man by feigning interest, but this was Daniel; he meant it.

"Lexy," Vala said stonily, "are we allowed to know anything about her?"

The General suppressed the urge to sigh, his shoulder's tensing up again as the interrogation began once again; "of course… look, I'm sorry but there are certain things-"

"We can't know," Sam chimed in "we understand,"

"No," Sheppard answered swiftly, willing them to understand; "there are certain things _I _can't tell you,"

Sam frowned. "I just said that,"

Sheppard shook his head. "It's not my business to give you her life story. I can tell you bits and pieces but there are certain aspects of Lexy's life that are _hers_, no one here has the right to take that away from her," his eyes were dark and his tone almost fiercely protective, the unsaid words behind his proclamation – _she's lost too much already –_ were as loud as anything he had actually vocalised.

"Okay," Daniel said, taking his wife's hand under the table in a firm but gentle hold, "tell us what you can," he almost winced when he felt Vala tense in his hand but he didn't let go and she eventually relaxed, settling for giving him a potent look.

"June 2016, Lorne and his team found an old… warehouse really… belonging to the Ancients, we sent a team of archaeologists and scientist back and they found four ZPMs, one was almost entirely powerless, another only half full as they had been being used to power the plant for so long. The other two seemed like back-up batteries and were fully charged,"

Mckay snorted and went to say something. The combined effects of Teal'c's glare and Sam's boot connecting with his shin left him looking affronted but silent.

Sheppard swallowed imperceptibly. Trying hard not to think of the celebrations and parties that had taken place; the glow that had settled in everyone's hearts. Despite the threat Adria represented hanging over everyone in the Milky Way and Pegasus, it had been wonderful, for a few days, to just bask in the satisfaction of _something_ having gone right. Four days of glory ripped apart by one day, one moment when they had relented; the ecstasy they had felt would forever be associated with despair, the salvation with indescribable loss; "a year later…"

_Rodney frowns as he checks the shipment list for what must have been the hundredth time. The lab is dimly lit and his eyes are straining to see the miniscule typing on the SGC printer paper. He glances at his watch, grateful for the light-up digital display, the military-issue contraption supplies; the return trip to Atlantis is a long time coming, in actuality it has only been a week since he had come back to Earth to pay a brief visit to Jeannie and sort out some things he had been putting off for far longer than he should have done but the air inside the mountain is oppressive, it's people walking with a drudging sense of defeat about their shoulders, fighting the good fight because there's nothing else left to do._

"_You're leaving," her tone is accusing and he feels a pang of guilt in his chest as she speaks._

_He looks up. Lexy is standing in the doorway, her blonde-brown hair tied into neat pigtails just above her ears, the curls tickle her shoulders. The hems of her jeans are scuffed as they catch beneath her sneakers and scrape the floor, she's wearing a hockey jersey Jack must have bought her because he can't imagine anyone else buying her such an item and her arms are folded across her chest in a gesture eerily reminiscent of her father's infamous self-hug. "Yeah," he croaks and clears his throat, "sorry I'm gonna miss your birthday brat," he smiles good-naturedly at her, it does not reach his eyes and she simply stares back at him, expressionless. "I'll bring something back with me next time I see you,"_

_There is a strange silence and just as it is about to get uncomfortable the girl speaks; "I want to go with you,"_

"_What?"_

_Lexy's gaze is piercing; "I want to go to Atlantis with you,"_

"_I'll uh… see if Sam can organize for you to visit sometime…" he gabbles because he knows precisely what's she asking and it's absurd. He's known this child since she was a baby, he was there when she said her first words and, inexplicably, they have grown close over the years but over the past twelve months it's been all he can do to even look at her._

_She's broken. A shell of the bubbly infant who commandeered entire briefings because she wanted help with her math homework, or was unwittingly nearly deemed a National Security threat at the age of five when she had decided to proclaim – rather loudly – during a Nativity play that the star the wise men had followed, was in fact, an Asguard ship coming to fight the evil King Herod. Her report on her weekend activities had concluded with the line 'then me and uncle Cam and Murray waited up 'til eleven-o'clock for mommy and daddy to come home from fighting the aliens.' Thankfully, these ideas had been dismissed as the result of a 'little girl with a very vivid imagination' and for the less naïve it just being 'Doctor Jackson's daughter' therefore 'insanity must be in the genes'. These stories simply helped to augment what Rodney knew from the time he spent with her on his infrequent visits to Earth. Now she was a ghost of that child. That ball of sunshine everyone at the SGC and on Atlantis had fallen in love with, despite better efforts not too, no longer existed and that's more painful than anything else._

_He doesn't want to look at her, he can glance, pretend he's seeing her but he's not, he can't, because it hurts too much and he hates the fact that one little girl has that power over him. It's illogical but no matter how many times he tells himself that and he does try and look, his stomach plummets, his head spins and his chest feels so tight he almost forgets to breathe. It's wrong, he knows its wrong but he can't help it._

"_I don't want to visit," she spits, "I don't want to live here anymore,"_

_Rodney looks up from the list, "Sam and Jack-"_

"_I don't like them," she says and somehow it doesn't sound petulant. "I don't like anyone here any more. They keep asking me stupid questions and nobody listens to me," her voice nearly breaks but she's not crying, in fact, Rodney finds himself wondering, almost panicked, if she even at the funeral; he doesn't think she did. "I want to live with you,"_

"_Lexy…" he implores, crouching in front of her, despite the protestations his back makes, "Sam and Jack are your guardians, your mom and dad chose them-"_

"_Mom and dad are dead," she snaps tonelessly, then, eyes widening and he's half considering that she's doing it on purpose, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes because she knows he can't resist but the expression behind them, the tone in her voice says not. "Please Mckay." she begs. "I wanna live with you and Teyla and Ronon," they won't ask stupid questions, they won't ask if she's okay and then ignore her when she replies, they won't treat her any different than before._

_She just wants normal, she wants it all back but she's past wishing for things that'll never happen. Mommy and daddy aren't coming home. She knows that; was never stupid enough to think they could but that didn't stop her wishing. Normal died with them, but on Atlantis she knows she might get close enough to be able to pretend again._

"_I can't just take you…" and it scares him that he is actually considering this, thinking about kidnapping the little girl standing before him, sweeping her away like the knight in shining armour she seems to think he is. She's one of the most high profile people on the base, somebody's going to notice that she's gone… no, he can't take her, it's unethical, the scare it would cause… but… He's seen the people she's surrounded by, the way they act, talk and move, the military precision, barked orders and the perpetual period of mourning they are all stuck in. Even he, Rodney Mckay, the most anti-social person in two galaxies can see that it's no world for Lexy to grow up in. So other children have too, they don't have a choice, Lexy does, and is it really kidnapping if the victim is willing?_

"_You can," she replies stubbornly, and the flicker of hope in her eyes makes his stomach flip. "I told Teal'c I was gonna go to bed for a little while," it's as if she knows what he's thinking; "and I can hide in a box until we get through the 'gate,"_

_He's amazed she has it all planned out, she's _nine_ but she knows what she's doing, has a plan, a tactical plan that's filled from floor to ceiling with flaws and potential problems but she's thought about it. She's serious… she's _nine _he reminds himself._

_Her jaw sets, as if she's detected his disapproval "if you don't take me, I'll just sneak through,"_

_And the most terrifying thing is that he is under no doubt that she will._

"_Fine," he sighs, and he can't believe he's agreeing to this, "fine,"_

_She flashes him a smile he's pretty sure nobody's seen in a year and throws her arms around his neck in gratitude. A moment later he peels her out of the embrace, becoming uncomfortable with the physical contact before rising to his feet and looking over the shipment they're surrounded by. His gaze lands on the Lexy-sized box in the corner of the room. He picks up the tools from the workbench and sets about drilling holes in the crate. He can't believe he's doing this_.

"He did what!" two voices shrieked at once, the blonde and the brunette both stared at Sheppard with wide eyes and sporting astonished expressions, Vala's seemed to be one of bemused disbelief, Sam's one of absolute horror.

"He put her in a _box?"_ Sam cried.

"It had air holes," Sheppard defended and it was a lousy excuse, at the time, when the entire base had been in uproar over the lost child it had been terrifying, in retrospect it was actually sort of amusing, when this did not seem to placate Sam and the others were all sporting a mixture of expressions, rather than deal with them all individually, the General decided to continue. "We called Atlantis not too long after we realised Lexy was missing." He almost grimaced at the memory of the two-and-a-half hour long radio call that had taken place, first starting as a heated disagreement before turning into a personality attack and screaming argument between the legal guardians of the then missing little girl and the man who had essentially kidnapped her.

"_She's not happy there!" Rodney exclaims and all doubt has gone from his mind that this was the right thing to do, even if it is just to spite the woman in front of him, the stoic man at her side; "surely you realised that!"_

"_Of course she's not happy," Carter replies, swallowing, eyes brimming with tears she will not let fall, "her parents are dead," she says and the tone she says it in makes even Rodney shudder, "but that doesn't mean you can just take her away,"_

"_She was going to come whether I let her or not," _

_"You should have told us," Carter sounds hurt and he hates it when she does that because it reminds him of all the things he's lost, "we could have convinced-"_

"_Her to stay?" he finishes for her, "Sam, she doesn't want to. She's tired of everyone treating her like she's about to break,"_

_Carter glares at him and for a moment he wishes it wasn't a video feed because she's making this harder than it should be; "we're her legal guardians Rodney," she challenges, referring to herself and Jack, "you don't have the right to make those decision for her,"_

"_Me?" he cries, "she's the one who said it. Maybe you guys just need a break..."_

"_You can't just uproot her just because you feel like it! She has school and-"_

"_She hasn't been too school in weeks!" he answers because she hasn't, her schooling's been haphazard ever since… well ever since. "Tell them you've pulled her out to be home-schooled. We can teach her here,"_

"_Teach her what exactly?" Carter's voice is cold, "theoretical astrophysics and botanical gardening?" The blow is low and completely petulant, but what Rodney has done is wrong, it's unethical and she could have him hauled in court for this, but she won't because she knows he meant well, even if his acts of compassion are few and far between._

"_Sam," he says softly and she finds herself calming, she doesn't want too, she wants to stay angry because anger stops the pain that the knowledge she is such a bad Godmother brings, "please, she needs this,"_

"She spent the next five years on Atlantis," Sheppard answered and the pride in his voice is tangible "as you probably saw she's had a fair bit of training,"

"Regular Xena," Cam snorted sarcastically.

Teal'c cocked his head in confusion but no one explained.

"Teyla and Ronon taught her hand to hand combat. Mckay physics, Zelenka math, Beckett biology and history. Lorne taught her military combat, armed and unarmed. Doctor Keller taught her English and everything else was sort of spread amongst them," he's not sure why he told them that, the trivial information but maybe that's what they wanted, the bits and pieces, somehow, that might make it easier, he's not sure how but he hoped that it would.

"Excuse me," Lexy's voice cut through the silence, she tactically avoided looking at anyone other than Sheppard; "evacuation team theta is good to go sir. The return call to Atlantis was a success,"

Sheppard nodded "thank you Lexy," he said, then to the team surrounding the briefing room table "I have to see the group off. You okay to wait here?" he got to his feet.

There was a series of nods and the General left the room.

_Next Chapter: When Vala tries another avenue in her attempts to know more about her daughter she is met with a somewhat icy reception, and why exactly are they evacuating the planet? More to the point; how many people now know about the Stargate Program? _


	8. Cenotaph

Chapter 8: Cenotaph

The team looked up as Sheppard re-entered the briefing room. The shields on the window over looking the 'gate room were down so there had been no way to watch 'evacuation group theta' depart. It would seem that every time they got an answer – or a vague allusion that could pass as one – twice as many questions would pop up. It had been ridiculous of them to assume that any of this would be easy; in fact, there was no need for them to stay. They had arrived far too early. Lexy was sixteen, with far more issues than any one of them could have expected, and no one had the faintest idea of how the teenager was supposed to defeat her sister. They should go back, return to 2008, and find another way around the problem, maybe the Asguard were wrong, and the Nox and the Furlings. Maybe Lexy wasn't the key to defeating Adria. The device they had used was temperamental, volatile and dangerous; there was no telling where they would end up if they tried another jump forwards, their best bet was to jump back. The date would be stored within the device's memory, and between the two of them, Sam found herself thinking, she and Mckay should be able to locate the data and, in layman's terms, put the device in a theoretical rewind.

"Sorry about that," Sheppard smiled at them as he took his seat at the briefing room table.

"What's this about evacuation?" Sam inquired before Mckay did. She could see he was itching for a moment where he could jump in and start pointing things out in his usual acerbic manner, making snide remarks and in general just being unnecessarily cruel, even if he wasn't essentially aware of the fact.

"The threat Adria poses is huge. She hasn't made an attempt on Earth in quite some time; however she is attacking planets nearby. Arthur's Mantle is failing," he reported sadly "the shield is shrinking rapidly – it's only protecting a third of the planets it once did,"

Sam and Mckay shared a look.

"We're evacuating everyone we can who is reachable and under the protection of the shield as fast as we can,"

"You've gone public?" Mckay's tone was accusing and Sam winced at how forceful it sounded but Sheppard, it seemed, was unfazed. The blonde found herself feeling a wave of amazement that the man could not only put up with the caustic barbs but deliver them back with as much wit and finesse as the scientist had first given, and over the years this had not seemed to dwindle in the slightest.

"No," Sheppard replied calmly but firmly, "not yet. Woolsey wants too but we're keeping it under wraps for now. Evacuating all high profile politicians, academics and their families as fast as we can - there's a small Earth colony being established with the help of the Athosians on an uninhabited planet in the Pegasus Galaxy,"

"Are you serious?" Cam leaned forwards on the table, fixing Sheppard with a penetrating stare "isn't that a little-?"

"We don't have a choice," Carter said from her position in the doorway "the longer we keep Arthur's Mantle at full power, the less time we have,"

"What about everyone else?" Vala asked suddenly, "are you just going to let them die?"

Sheppard's eyes narrowed and he tensed, jaw setting firmly as he watched her carefully, dozens of emotions flickering across his face but none staying long enough to quantify precisely how he felt in regards to her inadvertent accusation. "We're doing what we can," and his voice sounded so soft, almost broken that Vala felt guilty, "we can't just tell the world about the Stargate Program," he glanced at Carter in the doorway, as if sharing some untold truth that strengthened them both to just think about for a moment. "Look," he said, and suddenly he didn't look so accommodating, "I'm not going to try and explain it; you won't understand,"

Sam glanced at Mckay and saw something akin to concern in his eyes; a flicker of emotion there for a friend who wasn't really his friend, but it was there and it was real. Sam hated the sympathy worming its way in to her chest, because it meant she was inclined to stay, to help, to save a world that she didn't belong in. They needed to go home; soon.

* * *

Janet Wells eyed the chocolate pudding in front of her somewhat distastefully. She had been hoping for jello but it had long gone by the time she had gotten in line at the commissary. The post mission medical checks were tedious at the best of times but when crossing the barrier between Atlantis and Earth they were so much stricter, for obvious reasons, but that did not make it any less irksome. Her father was manning a team currently off-world and they weren't scheduled to return for several more days, and her mother… Janet felt a pang in her stomach at the thought of her mother.

Marci was blissfully unaware of what her husband and daughter did for a living, and at times, Janet was jealous of her mother's naivety, the beauty she still believed the world to be, that Janet had to pretend it was every time she came back to see her. She had to put on the rose coloured glasses and pretend like she didn't watch her friends get slaughtered before her eyes, hadn't seen commanding officers burned alive by Adria as she proclaimed herself a God in place of the fallen Ori. The Stargate Program, even as it separated you from the rest of the world, drew you closer to the men and women you worked with and going home sometimes, seeing her mom… it was like a foreign land, a world she no longer recognized filled with the rich smell of baking from the kitchen, creaky floorboards and a bedroom decorated with models of fighter jets and posters of great expanses of sky that showed a freedom that wasn't as true as it looked in the photograph.

Sometimes she wondered if it would be easier just to not go back, to stay on Atlantis, within the SGC. She would see her father; get to hear how her mother was without having to see her, without having to _lie_ because that was the hardest part. It wasn't having to say 'sorry mom, national security' or 'I can't tell you, you know that' that hurt, it was the real lies, the ones where she smiled and laughed and joked, acted like everything was okay because it wasn't. Adria could attack at any day and who knew how long they would survive if that happened. Besides, she had it good. Better than some, better than Lexy and she felt guilty that she ever contemplated locking her mother out like that because she can see, every time Lexy is around them, how badly she wants it; a family. Even when Lexy has the most extended family Janet has ever seen, and then the thought of never seeing her mother again almost tears Janet apart, and she realises she could never walk away.

The pudding was lukewarm and both tasted and looked awful but she choked it down anyway; pushing the empty pot and spoon across the table and gulping half a bottle of water down to get the foul taste from her lips. Her stomach had been in knots from the moment she'd been told who was in the base and for a moment she had been ready to jump for joy. Ready to shout and cheer and do all the things she had assumed friends do for one another but Lexy wasn't pleased, she was unreadable. Retreating back under the cool, hard exterior nobody could shift, not even Rodney. Though this was more due to lack of trying; the astrophysicist was annoyingly faithful in the old 'she'll come to me' idiom when it came to the young girl and the stupid thing was, Lexy was yet to prove him wrong.

Janet had known Lexy her whole life; the only time during which they had ever really been apart was in the first three and a half years of the younger girl's residence on Atlantis. Janet had, had no knowledge of where her friend was and what she was doing there, no one would tell her, no one could, because at that point she had been as naïve as her mother. Tucked up save in her cosy little room with nothing more worrying to consider than math homework and petty arguments with friends that never mattered. Then, the moment Janet had qualified for the air force and had been fully disclosed in regards to the Stargate Program as per recommendation of her father, and Generals Mitchell and Carter, she had requested a transfer to Atlantis. With Jack O'Neill backing her every move and Sheppard handling the paperwork, it had not taken long before she was stationed on the Pegasus outpost.

Nevertheless it had taken some time to grow accustomed to the young woman which had replaced the little girl she had led around by the hand for so many years. Lexy was impossible, she outshone everyone around her, lighting up a room without even realising what she was doing. Her personality was witty and at times abrasive, talents she had no doubt adopted from Rodney. Perhaps more perplexing still, was that people could not help but be drawn to her, and yet, surprisingly enough, very few did it out of pity. Lexy _was_ brilliant, she was intelligent to the point even Rodney, in his absurd little ways, complimented her for it. She was a gifted fighter and Janet could safely say that if she could choose anyone to have watching her six it would be, without a shadow of a doubt, Lexy Jackson.

"Janet?"

The voice sent chills down her spine. Janet found herself paralysed for a moment. The accent was so familiar, so distinct her heart was hammering in her chest, an adrenalin rush she didn't need coursing through her veins as part of her mind tried to convince her that it was impossible. That _she_ couldn't be standing there but the young captain knew that it was all to possible but still… she forced herself to look up. Her own dark hair, though short, had fallen in her face and she shook her fringe away from her eyes as she forced herself to look at the woman in front of her.

"Mrs. Jackson," she replied tightly, blood roaring in her ears, a moment later she back-pedalled; "you have already married him right? You're not from before then… oh man, dad would kill me if I just messed that up…"

Vala found herself smiling a little at the younger woman's capitulating. She took a seat and her smiled faded when Janet flinched, scooting her chair back a little to try and disguise the involuntary movement, "yes," she assured her "a year,"

Janet nodded curtly. "Congratulations." She wanted to run, to get up and just keep running until her legs couldn't carry her any further, this felt so wrong, a face she had not seen in so many years, whose named haunted the halls even now… she shouldn't be here talking to Vala. Lexy would hate her for it. "Listen uh-"

"What happened?" Vala cut her off, recognizing an avoidance tactic when she saw one – she was married to Daniel Jackson; she knew them all and then some – but she needed this, maybe it was wrong, ambushing the girl, but somebody had to be willing to say something.

"Excuse me?" her tone was almost accusatory and it took every ounce of self-control she had not to start jumping to conclusions.

Vala gave her a pained look.

Janet got to her feet. "Shouldn't you be with the airmen? I thought General Sheppard had you all under escort,"

"I slipped out," the alien woman responded absently, glancing over her shoulder almost guiltily, "please Janet-"

"You should be talking to Lexy," she said, "come on," gesturing she had for the commissary doors, ignoring the few dozen pairs of eyes focussing on the woman who was following in her wake.

"I'm dead," Vala deadpanned. "Daniel's dead. Lexy doesn't want to talk to us. _No one_ will tell us anything,"

Janet thumbed the button for the elevator; "you can't expect everyone to answer all your questions. Maybe its best if you don't know what happened,"

Some things really are better left unsaid. You don't need to know everything because then you have to deal with the good and the bad. Janet hated to think of the innocence she had held before joining the Stargate Program for the simple reason that it was a jarring reminder of powerlessness she did not want to recall, but this was different. Curiosity is an evil thing; it consumes you, takes you over and forces you in to doing things you would not normally do just to get an answer to a question you don't need.

"I have a right to know,"

"No Mrs. Jackson," Janet corrected softly as they stepped into the empty elevator, "you don't."

* * *

"Where's Vala got to?" Cam asked, not looking up from the comic book he was reading as he sat leaning against the headboard of his bed.

Mckay and Teal'c were sat at the small table in the corner of the room, playing a game of chess, an uncomfortable air of animosity shimmering between the two of them, as if the last thing they wanted to be doing was playing a board game against one another and Daniel was stood just inside the doorway.

"I don't know," Daniel said, "I was wondering whether she'd come here,"

"Haven't seen her," Cam answered needlessly, flipping the page, "could be with Sam – she and her future self went off earlier to talk about Arthur's Mantle,"

"I should be helping with that;" Mckay scowled, almost sounding jealous, "I was the one that got it working in the first place, if they would-"

Cam rolled his eyes, as if he had heard the argument one too many times in the last hour for it to matter anymore. Daniel smirked at his blatant disregarding of the astrophysicist's outrage.

"I believe General Carter wished to speak with Colonel Carter alone," Teal'c intoned, and then he raised an eyebrow, adding with a vaguely teasing note to his voice, "perhaps they had grown wearisome of your company,"

Mckay looked suitably offended by the remark. The jaffa's expression bore no malice and his words were merely a statement of fact; expressing his opinion had not been a intentional barb at the guest-member of SG1 personally.

"You know what she wanted?" Daniel asked, rocking back on his heels and trying to clear the hostile silence that had fallen.

"No idea," Cam peered over the top of his book "probably something to do with Arthur's Mantle,"

* * *

"I don't know what you expect me to do;" Sam said honestly, eyes skimming over the device's schematics, "is it just the power source?"

Carter shook her head, "the power is fine. It's the device itself. It's like it's wearing down,"

Thousands of years old the device may be, but it was absurd to think of a piece of Ancient technology breaking down due to old age and over use, at least not without a shower of sparks and temporarily affecting someone's mental capacity.

Sam looked at her older counterpart curiously. "Mckay might be able to help," she said grudgingly.

Carter shook her head. "I'd rather not call on Doctor Mckay's services until absolutely necessary,"

Sam frowned and despite the fact that they were essentially the same person, she could not figure out what was going on in Carter's head. The tone was unfamiliar as was much of this time. Things looked the same, faces just slightly aged versions of the people she saw everyday, greeted in the commissary and watched stumble, exhausted and soaking wet back through the Stargate but all the while they would be grinning through the sweat and grime of alien river water, laughing at the antics of the villagers they had just encountered. There was no laughter here. Everything looked the same; nothing was.

The ghosts of a past she knew nothing about, memories just out of reach, haunted the corridors, heavy in the air as soldier and civilian alike glided past one another almost oblivious to any existence other than their own. It was defeat that made the air taste bitter, misplaced guilt that weighed upon them all, as if they had long since conceded their losses and the only reason they were still fighting was because the alternative was far worse. They were soldiers, and they weren't capable of dying begging on their knees for a life that wouldn't be worth living, they would rather die in a war they could never win than that.

Her chest ached as she thought about it and all of a sudden she found herself missing home, her house, the people she _knew_ rather than this morbid imitation… she missed Jack.

"You okay?" Carter asked; her expression on of sincere concern.

Sam hesitated, "I don't know," she replied honestly "I just… I don't understand what went wrong,"

Carter gave her a wry smile "it hasn't all been like this," she tried to reassure her younger self. The spark in Sam's eyes that had long since faded from her own was bright and Carter knew she had to keep her counterpart's hopes up, even if it would ultimately get them here. Besides, there was still a chance, that by time-travelling they would be able to change what was yet to come for them; "we've had good times too,"

Sam nodded. Of course that was true, there had to have been some; it wasn't possible for them to have had sixteen years of complete desolation and pain, but for some reason that didn't make it any easier to believe.

Carter thought about it for a minute, as if contemplating if any of what she had just said was provable without telling her counterpart too much, tapping her finger absently; "mid-December on Atlantis,"

Sam could not help but smile when she noticed the gesturel. "Jack?"

Carter gave her a smug look, smiling almost playfully "you know I can't tell you that,"

* * *

Perhaps she had been spending too much time with Vala, because it had been inordinately easy to get the young airman to look away long enough for her to be able to take a walk by herself. Sam felt a stab of guilt regarding the young man, fresh-faced and eager to please he was obviously new to the program and the honour of being asked to escort time-travelling visitors must have been awe-inspiring for him therefore he would have been in two minds about reporting that he had lost track of his charge. She understood the people of this time's need to protect their guests, but there was so much being left unsaid, vague references and allusions to things that were unnecessary for them to be mentioned at all. Why was everything such a big secret? And if they were so desperate that their guests didn't find out, why make it so obvious that there was more going on than meets the eye?

The cold, hard facts were what they had come for, the whole reason for them jumping into the future; however it seemed that the facts were covered in lies and personal issues that needed either resolving or brushing aside long enough that the answers they needed to give could be given the opportunity to breathe. These people were so different to the one's she knew, they were darker, dejected even, grasping at straws with no explanation as to why; how could things have gotten so bad? How could everybody change so much they were barely recognizable in sixteen years?

She was uncomfortable. She hated the fact that on the surface everything gave the illusion of being the same and she reached out and ran her fingers across the chilled, concrete walls, a tangible reminder that some things had stayed the same, but the things that really, truly mattered? They hadn't and she could not figure out why.

There was no purpose in her steps, she was walking at a normal speed so as not to attract attention to herself and because if she walk to slowly, her footsteps echoed off the walls and she found that concentrating on them was unnerving and left her off guard and for some reason she felt the need to be on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder for something she couldn't quite see. The corridors were nearly empty, the occasional marine moving swiftly past, barely even noticing her presence and a linguist Sam recognized from Daniel's department glanced at her once, doing a rapid double take before ducking her head and moving off; if Sam remember correctly she was a new recruit to the SGC back in 2008, her face showed minimal signs of aging but her look of surprise was enough to give it all away.

As Sam turned the corner she realised she was walking in the direction of the infirmary, something laughable ironic about the fact tickled at the back of her mind; that she would instinctively move to the hospital still, after all this time, when she needed advice on a situation. It had been four years since Janet's death – twenty in this period… - but she still found herself searching her old friend out without even thinking about it, it brought a lump to her throat as she remembered, images contorting in front of her eyes… the reporter who had been documenting the SGC nosing his way into everything, flashing that God-forsaken camera in their faces as they mourned a loss that shattered everyone, the look on Daniel's face as he subjected himself to watching that recording again and again, searching for a way out, an excuse for himself that he didn't need, because no matter how much he may have thought at the time, it was not his fault. It was a horrible accident that no one could have prevented, and Janet had died doing what she loved, helping people… Sam thought of Janet Wells, the pretty young woman who had walked through the Stargate with Rodney Mckay; Janet would be honoured that Wells had named his daughter after her and even more so with what she had become.

Sam came to a stop, eyes skimming across the expanse of concrete in front of her; the wall outside the infirmary was not plain like the others, not smooth like she remembered, and she reached out to trace her fingers across the indentations in the wall; carved into it, at the top, were the words _'May 14, 2013; It was an Honour to Serve'_. Beneath the lettering were columns of names; lists of the dead.

Sam found her eyes darting down the list, names she recognized and names she didn't, each one bringing a new, harrowing sense of loss to her chest, bearing down her furiously as if this was some how something she had experienced herself; _Lt. Colonel Sarah Abbot, Dr. Nicholas Ballard, Sergeant Dean C. Bennet, Corporal David L. Crawson, Captain Jackie M. Fanning, Dr. Charlotte T. Groves, Major Gregory Johnson, Captain James D. Ludlow, Isobel J. Mckay…_

Mckay? Isobel… who…? Sam blinked and shook her head and checked again, the name was still there, as clear and sharp as all the others and she reached out to trace the name carved in the cool concrete. Maybe there was another Mckay… that was too much of coincidence. She knew Mckay's sister, Jeannie, her husband Kaleb Miller, and their daughter Madison but no Isobel.

Her chest tightened once again when she finally mustered up the courage to look away, and read the other names, observe the memorial in its entirety. May 14, 2013… that must have been the siege… Sam felt another wave of frustration, even though she knew that they could not know everything that did not stop the curiosity, the need to know something, anything more than what they already did.

How had things gotten so bad that it had to come to this?

* * *

Carter and Rodney both looked up as Sam walked in. She was hovering in the doorway and Rodney smiled a little before turning back to Carter. "I better get going – I'm supposed to be having a meeting with Sheppard in a few minutes," he rolled his eyes characteristically, as if he was unable to quite comprehend why he had to schedule meetings to speak with his former team leader and friend, "I'll see you for dinner?" the statement was posed as a question, the inflection on his voice sounded strained.

Carter nodded, "see you later Rodney,"

Rodney nodded, "bye," he muttered as he skirted past the younger version of the woman with whom he had just been making dinner plans.

Sam waited until he was gone; avoiding looking at him so she did not ask him the question that was dominating her thoughts. It was long enough for Carter to go about reviewing a sheet of notes in front of her before looking up, the piercing blue gaze of eyes so familiar to Sam's own unnerving her.

"Is everything all right?" Carter asked.

Sam hesitated, wondering for a moment whether she had a right to ask, and even if she was asking the right person but surely it would be easier to talk to herself than to Mckay because surely in any era, the man had the power to cut you to the quick without even trying.

It was probably none of her business, she probably had no sound reason to query it but something was telling her to. Something was nagging at her and it would not relent because they were being told nothing, and maybe this would open the lines of communication; a direct, personal question that did not relate to Lexy but allowed them to have something to build on… should she even be asking? Finally, she sighed, ignored any sense of logic or reason that had come into her head since entering the lab and responded; "who was Isobel?"

_Next Chapter: Humans are curious by nature, clumsy and foolish, advancing too fast for our own good. We ask questions purely because it gives us a drive to do something else, to find out something we didn't know before, however, it is all too often that we find the answers we receive, are not the ones we wanted in the first place._


	9. Wide Angled Lens

Chapter 9: Wide Angled Lens

"General Carter, please report to the control room,"

Something tightened in Sam's gut when she heard the voice over the intercom system summoning her counterpart. It felt like a rock had managed to get itself entangled in her intestines and was slowly sapping all the strength from her body; she wanted to know, she _needed _to but the scariest part was she didn't know _why_. How was it anything to do with her that someone she did not know or recognized had died in a siege that for her, had not even taken place yet? Just because the surname was Mckay did not necessarily mean it was anything to do with Rodney. She was being ridiculous, it had to be something to do with Mckay, there's no way it couldn't be, but that didn't explain anything, let alone her compulsion to figure it out.

"Excuse me," Carter pushed off her desk and got to her feet, "I have to-"

"Yeah I know,"

Carter smiled a little sheepishly before leaving.

Sam looked around the lab. The burning anticipation still coiling in her gut and she tried desperately to quash it. The familiar room was much the same, some of the furniture looked newer, and a large section of the wall was made of fresher concrete than the rest of the room but save for that it was the same basic design. Her workstation was as chaotic as ever, some of the devices on the surfaces were vaguely familiar though partially dismantled. The air-conditioning buzzed back into life on its timer and she jumped a little when she heard it.

The slowly rotating SGC insignia revolved in three-dimensions across the computer screen and a moment of daring had her moving swiftly over to the machine and shifting the mouse to deactivate the screen-saver, immediately thrown into a log-in screen she paused a moment before tapping in her username and tentatively entering her regular password; she released a breath she had not realized she was holding as the data was accepted and a new screen emerged. She hesitated again.

She shouldn't be doing this.

Double clicking on the '-PC' icon on the desktop, and then again on 'PERSONNEL DRIVE C:\' she found the 'search' application. Fingers moving quickly before her conscience got the better of her and she was forced to stop, she typed in 'May 14, 2013' and hit the enter key again with a heavy sigh. Immediately the screen went black and another log-in screen appeared asking for her identification and password; Sam typed it again, hoping that Carter had enough clearance to access any documents that she may have found. The window opened almost instantaneously and hundreds of documents were accessible, mostly in some, obviously newer, version of _Microsoft Word_ with titles only varying slightly with the name attached to them; copies of the reports from the day of the siege that Sam did not dare open.

She was close to closing the window and logging out before a video file caught her eye and perhaps by some subconscious movement or some fluke clicking of the mouse she had not intended, a media player sprang to life and the screen immediately went black, white letters forming on screen,

'_The following footage details the interview of Colonel J. Sheppard, Colonel C. Mitchell and Doctor D. Jackson, all employees_ _of the United States Air Force pertaining to the alien attack upon the Cheyenne Mountain Complex on May 14, 2013. Interview is performed by Mr. Richard Woolsey of the International Oversight Advisory__**.'**__._

The words faded away after a moment, and the screen remained black for several long seconds then it flickered, sporadic flashes of colour and fuzzy white danced across the screen. The image became clear a moment after the sound began;

_"The date is May 17, 2014. Present are Mr. Richard Woolsey, representative of the IOA, Lieutenant Cosgrove controlling the camera, Colonel John Sheppard of the Atlantis expedition, and Colonel Cameron Mitchell and Doctor Daniel Jackson of SG1," Woolsey's voice is as monotonous as ever as he addresses the camera, his thin lips are pressed tightly together and his hands clasped neatly over the top of a pile of mission reports._

Sam studied the screen carefully. The light was poor and shadows were cast across the room like indescribable, giant black shapes haunting the corners. The image shuddered for a moment, as if the camera had nearly fallen off wherever it was perched and a hand appeared from nowhere and righted it again.

"_Colonel," Woolsey inclines his head and the camera zooms in on Sheppard clumsily, "you were the one who ordered the deployment of four nuclear warheads,"_

_Sheppard looks at him, stonily. There are blue-black smudges under his eyes and his chin is covered in dusty stubble because he hasn't had time to shave in days. Sleeping is something he is rapidly becoming unfamiliar with. The sleeves of his BDUs are pushed up to his elbows and one hand is locked around the wrist of the opposing arm. He is exhausted, and past caring about some little man who had been tucked up safe in his office in Washington or wherever the hell he worked, as they had fought and died to protect a planet who would never know._

"_Right," Woolsey coughs, looking uncomfortable and glancing at his files, "this action was approved by… Doctor Rodney Mckay… I see," he peers over the rim of his glasses, "and where is Doctor Mckay, Colonel Sheppard?"_

_The direct question requires a response and Sheppard looks as if he is contemplating making his reply the fist-meet-face variety but he quashes the urge and replies tonelessly; "he couldn't make it,"_

"_Colonel," Woolsey takes off his glasses and sighs, "I understand you have had a rough few days-"_

"_Do you wanna back off?" Cam snaps, straightening in his seat "you don't have a clue what's gone on here,"_

"_Excuse me Colonel Mitchell, I've read the reports," _

_Cam glowers at him. There's a laceration on his forehead, near his temple that looks nasty, but evidently not as bad as the one that has his entire left arm in thick white bandaging. "The reports," he says derisively, "they tell you jack shit,"_

_Woolsey prickles but ignores him, "Doctor Mckay's presence was specifically requested," he focuses his attention back on Sheppard, "why is that he has taken upon himself not to show up?"_

"_Personal business,"_

_Woolsey looks just about at the end of his rope, but Sheppard is beyond caring. He could quite happily beat the living shit out of the man and walk away without a care. He knows nothing. He did not see the blood, the anguish and the pain. He didn't watch his best friend crumple to the floor, slide down the wall and cry when he thought no one was looking as the weight of the fatal truth descended on him. He did not order the murder of over two thousand innocent men without a moment's hesitation. He is not the one who has to pick up the pieces. He _knows_ nothing._

"_Over a hundred men and women of Earth died Colonel!" Woolsey exclaims, "Even more were injured. The IOA needs answers!"_

"_You've read the files," he repeats and whilst Cam's tone is sarcastic, his face is expressionless._

_Woolsey sighs exasperatedly, "Colonel Carter is absent also," he notes, eyes skimming across the reports in front of him, "what is her reason for absence? It appears to have been omitted from this report,"_

"_Personal business," the three men say as one, unplanned but unified; they do not want to be here. There are funerals to plan, letters to write and lives to put back together._

"_She is with Doctor Mckay?"_

_Cam slams his hand down on the desk. Something inside him snaps and he hisses, uncaring as to his language or his tone; "they lost their fucking child you asshole!" _

_Woolsey pales; "they… what?"_

Sam stared at the screen; eyes wide with shock and a lump forming in her throat. One hand moved of its own volition to press gently over her flat stomach. She felt empty, hollowed out and forgotten; it was almost as if the walls of the room were closing in on her. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling, whether what she as experiencing is normal or not… what is normal? How do we define the 'norm'? By majority or popularity, or by the generic expectations of a society that could never abide by such confines? Is anyone really normal? Her head was spinning and she could not tell if that was a result of her self-questioning or of the thoughts running through her head, whether they are simply extensions of one another, it did not matter.

She and Mckay... she felt nothing in that respect, no sense of loss regarding Jack, nor shock and disbelieve that she would ever to surrender to Mckay's awful attempts at flirting. She could not even focus on the fact that the baby she had or would lose was a by-product of herself and the aforementioned acerbic astrophysicist. It was as if this were a story, a novelization or some sort that was in no way related to her or the people she knew; dissociation perhaps? A self-preservation tactic her mind had concocted because it was unable to accept these awful truths. Not wanting to think about it anymore, she ironically allowed herself to be drawn back into the video footage.

"_How far along was she?" Woolsey asks because he's read the reports on the siege but he is not privy to the private medical files of the SGC personnel that are not relating to the disaster._

"_Seven and a half months," Sheppard cuts in, eyes narrow and dangerous, his entire body is tense and he seems ready to run at the shortest notice. He wants to do something. It's obvious, but he feels so powerless the adrenalin is running nowhere, exhausting him when there's nowhere for the pent up energy to go._

_They've lost so much; too much. He's been to Afghanistan, he's watched his friends die, and he's written letters to loved ones as a 'commanding officer with formal apologies from the United States Air Forces' that hurt to write because they're all the same. They all look so cold, so practical, no compassion because at school he could do math, he was okay at science and running track was a pleasant change from riding horses but he pretty much sucked at English in comparison and writing lies in clean black sans-serif font with the USAF insignia in the header was just a jarring reminder of how incapable he felt as the CO of anybody, including himself._

_He feels guilty for feeling like this though. He has no right. His friends have survived, a little worse for wears but they're alive and the bad guys are gone, at least for now. He's done significant damage to an army that had threatened to overthrow them. No one he loved his dead; none are lying injured in the decimated infirmary, in comas or walking around with broken bones. Concussions and mild lacerations made them lucky._

_Rodney and Sam are the ones who lost their baby; a little girl according to Doctor Lam. Captain Grumby is the one who lost her father in an explosion in the archives – what were the Ori warriors doing in fucking archives? - Lieutenant Baker lost his fiancé courtesy of a stray piece of shrapnel. Colonel Vaughn lost his entire team when an elevator cable snapped, sending them all plummeting thirty-five feet into a pile of rubble and charred metal. They would have survived had rescue teams gotten to them sooner but they'd run out of oxygen mere hours before any aid had managed to be sent, suffocating in clouds of dust and debris, as they lay in sticky pools of their comrade's blood._

_Sheppard should not be complaining._

"_My God…" Woolsey mutters and he looks pale, almost giving the sickly pallor of the three men opposite him a run for their money._

_An uncomfortable silence follows and Cam resists the urge to glance at Daniel because he knows when he does, one of them will lose it. He wants to say something, but he's not sure if it'll help, in fact it probably won't. He hasn't seen Vala since breakfast and she had been silent, poking at cold porridge and pretending to sip tea he knows she can't stand. He wants to scream._

_Woolsey clears his throat, "the IOA is still unclear as to how Adria and her forces got through the Stargate," he looks down at his report and Cam gives into temptation and glances at his friend. Daniel does not respond and Cam feels his stomach drop, "it says here no identification code was received yet the iris was retracted?"_

"_It was opened," Daniel's voice is hoarse from misuse; he and Vala have barely spoken, they communicate without words because they're not needed and he knows when they do speak they will shout, hurl insults and false accusations at one another, tears will fall and they will be fighting on the same side but arguing all the same. He is terrified she will run._ _Married for six years and he is still scared she will leave. An accidental union but one forged in the deep lines of love, trust and sacrifice all the same. He's not sure what he'd do if she went but he daren't voice his fears; she's sensitive and has every right to be offended by his thoughts but he can't help it and after this… after this he can't lose her. _

"_Go on,"_

_Cam winces as Woolsey speaks, and Sheppard stares daggers at the weasel-faced little man, Daniel just stares straight at him._

"_Lexy opened it,"_

_Woolsey frowns. "Lexy…" he starts, "as in Lexy-Claire Jackson? Your daughter?"_

"_Yeah,"_

_Woolsey glares at him, "that is ridiculous, she's… how old is she?" he glances at Cam._

"_Six," the Colonel replies and his tone suggests the IOA man should know that._

"_Six. How is she supposed to open the Stargate?"_

"_She must have seen Mckay do it in the morning," Sheppard says and he would have taken the blame except he doesn't know how to jury-rig the damn thing never mind teach a second grader how to operate it._

"_I highly doubt that's possible," Woolsey puts in tersely, "the hand-scanner-"_

"_Was off-line," Cam cuts across, "it failed during the night when a SG-12 tried to come back from P24 FYI, they waited until morning and Mckay over-rode the program - four digit code,"_

"_She… but…" Woolsey splutters, "she's _six,"

"_And she has her sister in her head,"_

_A vein in Woosley's neck looks as if it's about to pop right out there and then. He's going a funny shade of purple and if self-preservation was an issue Cam thinks he might jump in with an explanation right about now, but it's not, and he doesn't care so he won't. Instead he'll watch the man nearly explode as his blood pressure sky-rockets and he opens and closes his mouth uselessly; "will someone _please_ explain?"_

"_Adria's been planning this for years," Daniel leans forward in his seat, hands moving alongside his explanation, gestures becoming more exuberant the more he goes on, it's familiar. "Ever since Lexy was born, maybe even before, she's been intending to attack the SGC," swallowing he continues, his eyes bright with tears because this is his fault, he should have seen it, should have been able to protect his baby from Adria no matter the cost "Lexy's first word was Addy,"_

"_Addy?" Sheppard cuts in, he's surprised and it's believable that he has never heard this before; "wasn't that her imaginary friend?"_

"_Turns out," Daniel quips dryly, "that she wasn't that imaginary." There's a pause before he continues. "Adria's been projecting herself into Lexy's head for the past six years and she managed to coerce Lexy into opening the Stargate for her because Lexy watched Mckay bypass the security protocols that morning,"_

"_She remembered how to do that?"_

"_Doesn't matter if it was her or Adria in her head," Cam deadpanned, "it still happened. It was still an accident,"_

"_A perfectly avoidable one," Woolsey answers curtly. _

_Daniel feels so sick he's not sure what to do. It's not a gonna-throw-up-where's-the-nearest-basin sort of sick. It's a deep seated nausea that will not go away, twisting his stomach and clutching at his insides in a death grip that makes him flush; flashing intermittently between being freezing cold and boiling hot. He'd failed. He was her father and he'd let Adria exploit her like that; use her to instigate a massacre. They'd been unprepared, unarmed and understaffed but they had fought hard and paid the price. Couldn't the IOA see that?_

_Introduced to the Stargate in 1994, he'd been a gangly, insecure young man riddled with allergies who had grown from a scared little boy with a wider world knowledge than men ten times his age; desperate to prove himself to anyone who would listen even if at the time he would have been reluctant to admit the fact. But he had learnt, fast that sometimes you can't just be passive; you can't just lie back and let the universe come at you. Sha're had been stolen three years after they had first met and he had forced himself into a world of military egos, semi-automatics and missions that left you running for your life because passive didn't work all the time. The Goa'uld would not listen to reason, 'please give me my wife back' would have resulted in his immediate, and untimely demise and he could have waited forever for her to return and she still never would have._

_As an academic, he was willing to accept that time taught you lessons that were just as valuable as books. As an archaeologist he knew that field work was sometimes better than the most extensive library available. As a husband he okay with the fact that each day was a new adventure on which to embark. As a father…_ _As a father he should have known there was more to 'Addy' than met the eye, or indeed, didn't, point of fact. It was frighteningly obvious and it terrified him to think what else he could have missed. What else he had, or would, fail to protect his daughter from._

"_Where is your daughter now Doctor Jackson?" Woolsey asks._

_His mouth his dry, he hates this but he can't avoid it – he brought it on himself; "she's with Vala,"_

"_And your wife is…?"_

_Liar, liar, liar, he thinks, you're just lying, she's not 'with her mom'. Vala's there because you want to pretend this is voluntary, like you have a choice in the matter, that the only reason Lexy hasn't been arrested and locked in a cell is because she's six years old and the wrath of Doctor and Mrs. Jackson is not something anyone is up to facing right now._

"_They're in a secure facility just south of Santa Fe. They went this morning. Doctor Mackenzie is with them,"_

"_I fail to understand Doctor Jackson, what your daughter was doing in the control room in the first place. Surely the child is not allowed free run of the Command?" the humour in his voice is poignant and ill-suited to the situation; he clears his throat when no one responds. "A full investigation and psychiatric evaluation will have to be conducted in regards to your daughter Doctor Jackson," his sounds ominous and none of them dare think what the IOA representative is insinuating – how exactly do you punish a child as a threat to national – or rather intergalactic – security? You can hardly send them to Fort Leavenworth can you?_

"_She's just a kid!" Cam exclaims hotly._

"_She is responsible for the death of over a hundred people Colonel Mitchell, her age is irrelevant,"_

Sam felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks as she pressed stop.

_Next Chapter: As Sam tries to process this new information, Carter finds herself launched into the minor feud that is rising between Lexy and her parents._


	10. Wheels In Motion

Chapter 10: Wheels in Motion

Some things are better left unsaid. Sometimes you don't have to know everything. Science isn't always about finding the precise details of every single object in the known universe and some outside of it. It's about knowing when to stop, when enough is enough. It's knowing when to draw the proverbial line and say that no more needed to be found. She shouldn't have seen the video.

Nausea curled in her gut, twisting its thick fingers around her stomach and squeezing convulsively. Her head was spinning and her hands felt heavy no matter how hard she tried to forget the footage she had just been privy to. She should have clicked away, tapped the mouse over that little x in the corner and that would have been it. So she would have been craving to know still, wanting to find out because she was nosy, curious, but she would not feel like this. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe that was what was making her feel so sick; a deep seated fear spreading like poison through her body, clawing tendrils ripping her apart because _she shouldn't have seen it_. But all the same, if she had not seen the tape, would she have stopped when Carter refused to explain? Or would she have kept pushing, and ultimately found out another way? Still, it had to be better than finding out like this.

She should have so many questions – why did she and Jack break up? How did she and Mckay end up together? What had they had to go through to get Lexy cleared charges she was too young to pay for? – But she didn't. They were small in comparison, insignificant. They didn't matter because she knew more than she should. The siege wasn't just another attack on the base, it was _worse_.

War was something she was painfully familiar with. She'd flown in the Gulf. She'd spent a good portion of her life out in the field, a gun strapped to her chest and her thigh, a knife in her boot. She'd taken lives in the name of her planet, her country and her friends and watched lives be taken in front of her but this… this was different. It wasn't just a war, or a battle, and massacres; this was about a child, a little girl corrupted and used to turn her home into a slaughterhouse.

Adria was evil. They were well aware of the fact, and the term 'evil' sounded childish and almost Disney in such an over-simplified description but it was true all the same. However none of them had assumed she would stoop so low as to use her sister to achieve her means, they probably should have guessed it really but the Orisi's weakness in regards to her mother made them sloppy, thinking that blood meant more to Adria than universal-domination. How wrong they had all been.

What was the hardest, Sam found, was that there was no one to blame. Lexy had been a child, six years old, and her hero-worship of Mckay had not apparently dwindled even now; the girl echoing her idol's moves was simply her way of helping. No one would ever know if it were Lexy who had remembered the four-digit over-ride protocol, or if it was Adria implanting the numbers into her head; it didn't matter really. Daniel and Vala were her parents, as devastated as the rest of them, if not more so, guilt would have been roaring in their heads, grasping at their chests because Daniel always blamed himself, eight years working alongside Jack hadn't changed that, why would anything else? And Vala was Adria's mother, no matter how hard she tried to escape the fact.

Sheppard had done what he had to. He hadn't liked it; the expression on his face in the video had been more than a testament to that because for all they fought for Adria, her soldiers were not evil as she was, simply brain washed and they did not deserve to die, but they had, had to. Sheppard had ordered the warheads be deployed in self defence. Despite what some people may think, not all members of the military were happy-go-lucky with their trigger fingers, and nuclear warfare was always the last resort. She sympathized with the now-General greatly for doing what he had. The video, despite the horrors it revealed, explained many more things that had been bugging her as well. The withdrawn, cool exterior of her counterpart, the darkness that haunted Sheppard's eyes and the tense movements of the man whenever he was forced to recollect the dreaded day that would be imprinted on Sam's mind forever no matter if it happened in her own timeline or not, and she sincerely prayed for the latter.

She dare not contemplate Isobel and Mckay more than a swift glimpse over the surface, terrified of what else would be stirred up alongside such thoughts. It would mean too much hurt, too much heartache to think about it, and with her biological clock ticking the way it had been for several years now, the prospect of dealing with a miscarriage that had not even happened yet was something she was not sure she could cope with; she admired her older self for surviving it the way she had.

Lexy stood in the women's locker room, staring at herself in the mirror. Her damp hair hung about her shoulders haphazardly and lighter tendrils were spiralling around her cheeks as they dried in the artificial air the complex circulated through the mountain interior.

Her eyes were a bright, piercing blue, framed with the light make-up she had applied in the aftermath of her shower. Her skin flushed from the heat of the water. She frowned at her reflection, tidy blonde-brown eyebrows knitting together in a thin line across her forehead as they furrowed in minor disgust. It was impossible to escape it and she hated the fact that no matter what she did, she would always be reminded of memories she would rather forget, faces she wished she could not see in her own; running to another galaxy and back again had not changed that.

The thin chain hanging around her neck appeared to be silver, but she knew it wasn't, some alien alloy the Asguard had utilized to construct the seemingly ineffectual piece of jewellery many years ago. The pendant on the end of the chain was simple enough; a ring approximately the size of a quarter-dollar with a small stone set into the centre, appearing black save for those rare occasions that a light bright enough to penetrate the gem revealed it to be a deep blood red. Her fingers hovered over the clasp, and not for the first time, she was struck by a rebellious urge to remove the necklace, seconds later though, rationality broke through and she lowered her hands; it was not worth the risk.

It had been ten years since she was gifted with the pendant. Ten years since she had lived even a minute without it on. Her ticket out of spending the rest of her life in confinement; the three months that she had been subjected too as the Asguard raced to find a way to prevent Adria ever regaining access to her sister's thoughts was more than enough and despite what everyone around her, both at the time, and now thought, Lexy had been more than aware of what was going on. The poorly constructed façade that had been erected in lieu of anything else had been temporary even as they had all been faced with the prospect of permanence that had loomed on the horizon. She had been six, not stupid.

She blinked, sighing when the image in front of her did not change; instead she reached inside her locker, opting for glasses instead of contact lenses; if she had to be forced to see things she did not want to, she figured she may as well see them in focus.

"Thought I might find you in here," Carter said as she stepped inside the only puddle-jumper currently on Earth; the soft glow the walls emitted was more than enough indicator that someone with the ancient gene was nearby.

It would not give the teen enough credit to say that she jumped for Lexy did not turn away from the controls as she ran routine diagnostics despite the fact she knew full well she should not be in the jumper without supervision anyway, simply made a vague noise of acknowledgement.

Aware she was treading on thin ground, but grateful that she was able to avoid her doppelganger's questions for the time being, she tentatively stepped further into the ancient space craft, hesitating when for some reason the machine let out a barely audible hum that sounded almost hostile; as if echoing the feelings of the occupant of the pilot's seat.

"How're you doing?" she asked, even though she knew it was pointless. Lexy was expert at avoiding questions, giving people the answers she thought people wanted just to get them to leave her alone; probably why she had taken such an instant liking to Mckay as a baby.

"I'm fine," Lexy answered curtly, shifting a control and commanding the HUD to jump into life at the same time, displaying a mass of miscellaneous data that the average scientist would balk at, but the girl simply glanced up, found what she needed and moved on.

_Fucked__ up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional_; _Fine; i_it seemed to describe them all. The arrival of SG1 from the past had certainly left them all shaken, even those who had known they would be coming ever since the letter had come through but for Lexy, the one who deserved to know perhaps most of all, had been unaware until she had been backed into a corner, and Carter knew all to well how bad an idea that was. Ever since her parent's deaths approaching Lexy had been like moving around a wild lion, careful and quiet, treading silent footsteps for fear she would run; they'd made that mistake once already. Lexy had been _fine_ for seven years. The rest of them had been hovering over the proverbial knife edge, waiting for the other boot to drop.

"Listen…" Carter began and she wasn't sure where to go from there.

She understood why Lexy did not want to talk to these people who had appeared in their lives, claiming roles they had no right too like reckless intruders and it felt bizarre to watch the team interact as they once had, a long time ago. Before pain had destroyed their trust, betrayal had corrupted their souls, and death had ripped what was left of their hearts to shreds. So much was yet to come, so much change, and Carter found herself yearning for that time when they had been so blissfully ignorant of what they were yet to face, the trials they would have to overcome or work around, the losses they were yet to suffer. It was painful. It was perfect and she _wanted it all back_.

"Save it, Aunt Sam," Lexy snapped tonelessly.

Carter knew she should admonish the girl for her insolence, point out to her subtly that, that was no way to talk to her legal-guardian, but she could not bring herself to argue, it wasn't worth it. After everything, Lexy deserved some leeway, even if the voice in the back of her head was arguing that Lexy had, had more than enough chances, enough rules overlooked and misdemeanours disregarded because of who she was, and what she'd been through. Maybe that had been why she had left six years ago, because the lack of rules and regulations had been wearisome even for a ten-year-old.

"Have you _tried_ talking to them?" she asked because it was a way of avoiding the conversation she did not want to have, either with her younger self or one about respect with her God-daughter.

"Why would I want to do that?" Lexy answered acerbically, sounding frighteningly like Mckay in her indignation; her tone declaring that she could not comprehend a reason why she should possibly need to do what Carter was suggesting.

"Because they're you parents," Carter said earnestly, and she knew as soon as she said it, it was the wrong thing to say.

Lexy turned her head, glaring at the blonde over the top frame of her glasses "no," her tone was clipped, "they're not,"

"Lexy please,"

"Just because they look like mom and dad, doesn't mean they are them. My parents died when I was nine. Those two people may be the Daniel and Vala Jackson of 2008, but there _isn't_ a Mr. and Mrs. Jackson of 2024," she answered, the HUD shut down, flickering out of existence as Lexy realized she was not going to get any more work done.

"You might learn something," Carter tried, plausibly thinking that by appealing to her keen urge to acquire new knowledge she might get somewhere.

"Mom and dad can't just be replaced by a couple nearly ten years younger than I last remember them," a pained looked flickered across her face but she quickly schooled her expression and Carter hated the fact the girl had the ability to do that so young. "I'd rather stay out of the way until they leave – it's not like I could ever run out of things to do," she added sarcastically.

"Nobody would blame you if you did want to-"

"If I wanted to what?" Lexy got to her feet, ran her fingers through her now dry hair and put her hands on her hips, flesh peeking between her leather pants and military issue top, sleeves pushed to her elbows, it was as if she thought by rising to her grand height of five-foot-four she would managed to maintain some sort of power. "Go play happy families?" she snorted derisively, "I don't think so,"

"Oh stop it Lexy," Carter commanded shortly, growing weary of her obstinacy.

"What? Just because I don't want to pretend I'm living in some sort of fairytale where we all get a second chance, I'm being ridiculous?"

"I never said that,"

"You were thinking it," Lexy retorted stubbornly, moving to exit the small spacecraft.

"Lexy-"

"Aunt Sam," she said slowly, "there are more important things here than trying to sate the curiosity of two people I barely know,"

Carter sighed; reasoning with Lexy had always been difficult. Her father was stubborn to a fault; her mother hot-headed and just as mulish and spending five years living with Mckay probably did not help the fact. Nevertheless it had been so long since the girl had shown any true emotion; always in control, her movements measured and carefully considered and whilst rebellious, the only life she ever attempted to jeopardize was her own, and even then, it was carefully thought through her head before she instigated a task. The fact that her mind worked at twice the speed of the average person did not help to rid the image of a reckless teenager to many who came across her.

Something had to be done, it had been so long since anyone had mentioned Daniel and Vala's names, using them again sounded odd, and whilst no one had the right to necessarily force Lexy to talk to their visitors, someone had to do something to help her. They never should have instinctively prohibited mention of their names, stopped using them like it was taboo to refer to their lost friends. So it had hurt them, so they had choked on their words and had to blink back floods of tears, Lexy had been a child at the time; they should have let her know somehow that it was okay to think of her parents, to miss them and ask for them, to dream of her family and scream and cry when it all got to much; that it was _normal_. Instead they had been selfish in the aftermath, thinking only of themselves and their own pain and the subject had become lost and buried, thought about just not voiced for fear that someone would break, and God forbid they should lose anyone else.

Carter thought of Sam in her office, another name she had not heard uttered by anyone save for her ex-husband in years. The question had been innocent but if answered, would dredge up so much with it that Carter felt she would drown should she remember it all again.

"_Who was Isobel?"_

Her throat tightened as a thought struck her, and she was sincerely grateful that her voice did not catch as she spoke; "you coming home tonight? Or are you staying here?"

Previous topic forgotten, Lexy smiled, "depends whether or not you're cooking,"

Taking the joke for what it was, Carter was thankful for the momentary distraction,"your Uncle Jack wants a barbecue,"

"Count me in," the teen shrugged, smile dwindling but still there.

"I've got to go shopping for the steaks – feel like tagging along?" Carter hoped the deception in her tone was not obvious, her plan ad-hoc and very last minute as she improvised, playing with what she had and hoping that Lexy was distracted enough not to notice that her Godmother was so blatantly attempting to trick her into doing something she would never agree to otherwise.

Lexy looked momentarily torn but shrugged again; "why not?"

Carter's smile did not quite reach her eyes, but Lexy did not notice as she had already turned away "great," the older woman said, swallowing hard against the lump rising in her throat.

_Next Chapter: Sam's question stirs up old memories for Carter and Lexy is faced with something she has successfully managed to avoid for years._


	11. Little Izzy

Chapter 11: Little Izzy

_Sure. See you girls at home. Jack._

Carter let loose a breath she had not realised she was holding as she read the text message on her cell phone, angling the screen carefully away so as to make sure that Lexy did not catch sight of the conversation. She was grateful that Jack had not asked questions, merely agreed when she had sent him a fervent message, asking him if he minded cooking a barbecue tonight. It wasn't so much she feared he would say no – Jack thoroughly enjoyed setting fire to steaks on the rickety old barbecue in the garden – but more that she did not need him to act surprised when they showed up home laden with supplies.

Blood roared in her ears and she shifted in her seat as they approached the junction she had been dreading; the one where everything would become clear to Lexy and she would be on red-alert. A default setting for the young girl because she thought the whole universe was out to get her, everybody had a second agenda and she had to constantly fight for approval from those she refused to admit mattered.

Carter tapped the brakes, the car sliding to a graceful halt at the lights. She took a breath and paid studious attention to the traffic milling in front of her. Levering her foot off the brake and onto the clutch as she shifted gear before slipping it back again when the lights turned green. She twirled the steering wheel beneath her palms to the left. It was in that moment that Lexy had figured out where she was being taken; blue eyes darkened and fixed Carter with a steady gaze that slowly turned into a scowl of disapproval and Lexy's head whipped round so hard Carter was surprised it didn't hurt.

Carter gripped the steering wheel even tighter, the leather creaked beneath her fingers and the sweat beading on her palms was cold and clammy and felt not-at-all pleasant against the soft, sleek fabric. A heavy sigh from next to her almost had her smiling, which in turn made the teen even more infuriated. It was… normal. For a moment, a split second in a world that hadn't made sense in over a decade it was normal; Lexy was just a teenage girl who objected strongly to one thing or another as most teenagers do. She was just the Godmother who had been left to look after the girl for the afternoon.

"Why've you brought me here?" Lexy's voice shook as they pulled up, but Carter did not falter as she took the keys from the ignition and turned to face the young woman next to her.

"Because you need to see them," she was amazed at how her voice did not crack as she spoke; she had her own, less than pleasant memories of this place.

"See what?" Lexy snapped dangerously "there's nothing to see here but stones! It's a fucking cemetery," her tone was that Carter recognized, one usually reserved for mentions of Adria, facing down enemies and being sickeningly polite to the senior officers of the Stargate program who were less than supportive of Lexy's tactics in battle.

"Lexy," Carter's eyes narrowed "don't," she warned, not bothering to elaborate as to what it was Lexy was supposed to stop doing.

Lexy looked as if she was going to say something but instead she only blinked and looked out the window resolutely, Tense as a live wire as her body set itself ready for flight because when Lexy could not fight she ran, and now, it was as if all the fight was slowly slipping away from her, leaving her inexcusably powerless.

Carter winced as the slam of her car door reverberated in the silence, a breeze picked up and lifted stray strands of her hair into her face, and she tucked it back absently. Tapping on the passenger window and smiling in what she hoped was an encouraging manner at the girl inside. She had to be light and pleasant, she could not back down on this and if she let herself empathize then they would be back in the Vauxhall in a second and on their way back to the house without another word spoken.

With what Lexy was aiming to be a put upon sigh she climbed out of the car, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. She did not look at her Godmother as she shut the door and stalked away, her boots crunching on the gravel. Carter shook her head, locked the car and followed, observing for only a moment her Goddaughter's choice in clothing; how anyone could claim that leather pants that close fitting could be comfortable she would never know.

Carter picked up her pace when she saw Lexy had stopped by the wrought iron gates that guarded the public footpath into the graveyard. It was bizarre. Lexy could reassemble and load any weapon put in front of her in record time but ask her to walk into the cemetery a few blocks away and she froze, fear flickered across her face far more prominently than if she were facing down entire troops of Adria's soldiers. It would seem the girl's anger would only fuel her so far; no power in this galaxy or the next had the force to push her through those gates. The tremors that were shivering through her body were no longer of fury, and Carter wished they could both put them down to the gentle breeze that flicked through the trees looming over the entrance, but that was not legitimately possible.

"C'mon," Carter touched her elbow lightly and felt a pang in her chest when Lexy visibly jumped and flinched away.

"I think I'll just wait in the car," her voice faltered but the determination in her eyes was like twin flames, she was trying so hard it hurt; going through those gates was impossible and she should know what was and wasn't possible because she'd grown up in the Stargate program, she'd been educated by the best of the best; impossible was not a word allowed to make frequent appearance because very little was anymore.

Carter caught her wrist easily, "no,"

What little fight still existed seemed to fall from the girl in a sheet, and Carter's grip slid from her wrist to her hand. Slim fingers curling loosely around her Godmother's palm in a fear-filled grip she could not relinquish as she was led over to a far corner of the graveyard, a tall sycamore tree looming over two granite markers, cared for and clear of all debris that littered the various graves around them. The walk was too fast, bringing her to a halt too soon. She couldn't do this.

"No," Lexy said stubbornly, coming to a halt and tensing so hard it was as if bones were about to shatter throughout her body, "no," fear laced her voice and panic was rising in her chest, she couldn't do this… not now, not _ever_, "I'm going back," she turned to go, panic was rising in her chest, clawing at her from the inside out, it _hurt_ and it scared her even more than she could not handle that.

"Lexy-"

"No!" her tone was as sharp as a whip-crack, she whirled back round after only a few steps "what do you want me to do?" she gestured to the stones, voice hoarse with unshed tears and livid fury she could not rid herself of, "they're just lumps of rock, there's nothing underneath them, there's no one there to talk to!"

Carter gripped her shoulders firmly, refusing to yield even when Lexy struggled profusely and a few choice phrases were muttered under her breath, "let go of me," she whispered dangerously, her eyes were stinging but she would not cry, she couldn't… she didn't remember the last time she'd been able.

"I'm not going to do that," Carter breathed, hoping desperately her pseudo calm would ebb into the teen.

"Please Aunt Sam," she begged, refusing to look at the gravestones but at the same time unable to prevent her eyes from dancing over to glimpse them; a morbid fascination that poisoned her, even as she was determined not to yield to the venom that was slowly ripping her apart from the inside.

Carter didn't budge, "when was the last time you came here?" she asked softly, her calm surprising her almost as much as Lexy's reaction; she had expected a refusal, but not this, not hysteria... how long had she been running?

Lexy shook her head, curls falling into her face and she did not shake them away "it doesn't matter,"

"When Lexy?"

"I don't know!" she burst out in an angry, tear-filled haze, tugging her hair behind her ears "I don't know and I don't… please let me go… I'll wait in the car," the tears over flowed, coursing down her cheeks in slick, silvery patterns, Carter wiped them away with her thumb as she cupped Lexy's face in her hands, even as more fell to replace them.

"You won't talk to _them_, so at least try and pay your respects to their graves,"

Lexy shook her head, there were so many answers to that statement but it was all getting tangled up in her head, the resounding answer to every question was no. Don't falter, don't break. You can't stumble because you'll fall, you can't err because then you won't win and God forbid you should lose.

Carter pulled back; releasing the teenager with the same wary alertness as one would use when dealing with a particularly vicious cat. She kissed her Goddaughter's forehead quickly before moving away, giving her room to talk… or what ever it was Lexy needed to do.

She started walking, unsure as to where but made sure she stayed in sight of the markers of the Jackson graves. Keeping her head down she was able to keep half an eye on her God-daughter, her heart going out to the young woman as Lexy stood, frozen where Carter had left her, arms wrapped around her waist in that eerily familiar self-hug. She saw Lexy glance at the stones, shying almost visibly away even though her feet refused to budge Unable to watch any longer, Carter tore her eyes away, and kept walking, her feet moving faster than her brain for once and by the time she was aware of where she was it were too late for her to move away; as if her own conscience had gotten the better of herself also. With her feet planted firmly in front of a small marble grave stone, Carter found her eyes dancing over the black writing that was bold and prominent: '_Isobel Jeannie Mckay, May 16 2013 – May 16 2013'_ then the line beneath in smaller text but just as proud '_Beloved Daughter'_.

Carter's eyes were drawn to the palm sized stuffed bear sat at the foot of the stone and she crouched down, gently plucking the little card the bear was holding and opening it with a sad smile on her face. '_Missing you always_,' she read Rodney's handwriting with the practised ease of someone who was accustomed to reading illegible scrawl '_love mommy and daddy xx._'

_"Sam!"_

_The voice is familiar and she finds herself trying to respond, groaning when she manages to move and even that tiny motion sends spirals of pain pounding through her head._

_"Sam!"_

_Her eyes flicker open and she winces as the light over head sparks before cutting out completely and a light from further down the corridor illuminates the face floating hazily in front of her with a soft glow._

"_Are you okay?" his hand ghosts over her forehead in borderline professionalism and the other clasps one of her own firmly, convulsively squeezing it in his sweat-slicked palm._

"_Rodney?" she whispers, pushing herself to sit up and doing so somewhat sluggishly. She frowns at him and touches the back of her head tenderly; a swelling the size of a golf ball is sensitive to touch and has her hissing in pain, the blood matting her hair is sticky on her fingers as she pulls them away._

"_Can we have a medic over here please?" Rodney calls out into the empty corridor, his usual impatient tone of voice tainted only slightly by concern._

_"I'm fine," she says, voice barely more than a whisper as she begrudgingly accepts his help to get to her feet, shaking as she does so._

_His eyes narrow critically, "you need to get to the infirmary,"_

_She shakes her head, "nuh uh," she responds stubbornly, "I need…" she loses her trail of thought, her whole body is coursing with a dull fire and panic settles in her gut as she realises that this hell might not yet be over "where'd Adria go?"_

"_She's gone," Rodney answers stonily, putting her arm over his shoulder and the other around her waist._

_"As in…?"_

_Rodney nods, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face in hysterical elation, because they'd done it, once more team Sheppard and Mckay have managed to pull another miracle out of their asses and they've managed to push her back long enough for them to… There is no fixing this, he knows that, the mountain is half destroyed, the damage is so severe they hadn't been able to activate the self-destruct and the bodies are piling up fast; the smell of blood is thick and acidic in the air; "we won,"_

_She feels a sudden wash of exhaustion hit her, "how?" she asks breathily, needing to no more before the imminent crash. They've all be awake for… how long now? She can't remember, it's hard to comprehend a time before the resounding crashes and explosions, the terror that filled the halls and the screams that echoed down the corridors, filling every room, the panicked cries over radios for back up they were never going to get._

"_I don't know," he answers almost tensely, because he can't claim this one, he doesn't want too, he approved the idea, astonishingly he had been able to use what was left of the computer systems to provide a distraction long enough for Sheppard to send the nukes through the 'gate, he'd made the iris creak shut, quivering alongside the giant naquada ring it was housed in before the explosions ricocheted off the just-barely-closed trinium shield, "some tactical plan of Sheppard's. I didn't ask," he's lying, and he knows his wife will figure it out soon, but he doesn't know if he can handle her looking at him with the same disgust he can feel curling in the back of his head that he does not want to acknowledge, just for a few more minutes, if that's all he gets, he wants them to be devoid of all guilt-eliciting stares that will haunt both himself and Sheppard for the rest of their lives._

_Sam smiles to herself, that would be Rodney speak for 'I asked, didn't like it, we argued and he won', or at least that's what she lets herself think. Rodney can't lie, or he can, he's just awful at it, something is going on, there's something more to that 'tactical plan' but now is not the time to ask, for now she will share his delight… vertigo tips her world on an axis, sending it spiralling in blurred colours around her head "that's…" she stumbles and caught her feet harshly, she tells herself it's exhaustion or a minor concussion, nothing to worry about, she does not want to think about anything else "that's great," a bit of an understatement but – she stumbles again._

"_Woah," he says, shifting his hold "I'm not carrying you anywhere so stay awake," even as he speaks, his grip grows slightly tighter and the hand around her waist strokes her stomach absently, the warmth resonating from his palm is reassuring._

"_She was moving earlier," Sam whispers as they get into the elevator, she leant heavily against the wall as Rodney tapped the button for the infirmary level; it's a miracle that it's still working, her heart tightens for a moment as she thinks of Vaughn's team and she finds herself hoping that someone has managed to rescue them but there's a nagging voice in the back of her head that's telling her no._

"_Oh?" he asks, resuming his position at her side._

_Sam nods; the she pales, her breath catching in her throat as it dawns on her, God why didn't she think of it sooner? "What if…?"_

_Rodney looks at her, concern and panic filling his blue eyes "what if what?"_

_She looks at him desperately, and he hugs her, crushing her to his chest and it's comforting, helping in discarding such horrific thoughts from her mind, but she still dare not speak "she'll be fine," he breaths into her hair "she'll be fine," his voice trembling even as he said it, neither of them want to think about this but they don't have a choice, they have to contemplate the worst but their minds are revolting, refusing to even think for a second that something could have gone wrong; Sam can hear her heart roaring in her ears._

"_Yeah," Sam agrees hoarsely, it's hollow and obvious she doesn't agree, but even so she knows Rodney doesn't know it either, it's simply hope and oh how she wishes that he's right._

_The embrace only ends when the bell chimes almost wearily and they climb out. Walking into the infirmary with its bright lights surrendered them to the clinical arms of the doctors and nurses who are dashing from bed to bed, patching up wounds, swapping IVs and administering various forms of pain relief. The normally quiet rooms are filled with crying personnel and screams of pure agony; the entire infirmary looks like a disaster area. Adria's forces had not spared even the hospital._

"_Sam," Carolyn hurries over, leading the couple to a couple of chairs._

_Gurneys are no longer being used as methods to transport people but now as permanent places to rest as there is absolutely no where else for them to go; the smell of smoke, blood and tears is thick in the air and Sam almost chokes on it, Rodney looks decidedly green through the dust and grime clinging to his face._

"_How're you feeling Doctor Mckay?" Carolyn asks politely as she produces a penlight and starts flicking it in Sam's eyes, obviously not entirely satisfied with the results she does it again._

"_Exhausted," he answers distractedly and for once, his own health is not even second on his list of priorities; first Sam, then the baby, then him… family does strange things to you but he doesn't regret a second of it "the baby…"_

_Carolyn nods, gesturing for a nurse to bring her the ultrasound trolley as she pockets her penlight "you have a concussion." She says, smiling in thanks as the obviously busy nurse brought the trolley over before disappearing as she's called by someone else "albeit not a serious one." She flicks on the machine and picks up the transducer "now let's take a look at your baby shall we?" she smiles at them both and Sam immediately lifts her shirt; she doesn't even flinch as the gel is applied liberally._

"_Now it might take a few moments to… ahh there we are," Carolyn points at the screen, "you see her?" she vaguely traces the outline of the baby on screen._

"_She's not moving very much," Rodney observes; eyes narrow as they fix on the flickering blue image "is she okay?"_

_Carolyn swallows, horror settling in her gut but she answers so quickly it scares her even more "yeah," her voice is slightly higher than usual but neither one of them noticed it; she can't believe she's just done that "she's absolutely fine," oh my God it won't stop, she can't stop… she waits only a moment before flicking the machine off and putting the transducer back, terrified she's going to say something else, she passes Sam a box of wipes to clean the gel away as she pretends to hear someone call her name. "I have to go…" she looks to Rodney because for some reason he's easier to look at "I'll send someone over to check you out as soon as there's someone free. Just sit tight for now,"_

_She leaves the trolley at the foot of a lieutenant with a temporarily splinted leg and hurries out of the door; heading into the corridor and making it no where near as far away as she hopes before the tears overcome her and she is forced to bury her face in her hands as she weeps uncontrollably; a dam breaking inside her and filling her chest with incontrollable sobs she feels obscurely guilty for surrendering to. It isn't fair. What part of her job description said she'd have to deal with moments like these? This was like dealing with the aftermath of a small war, of a terrorist attack… so many injured. So many dead and so, so many who would be getting an officer of the United States Air Force turn up on their doorstep to say that they're loved one has 'died in the line of duty, fighting for his country and his people'. _

_It wasn't _like_ a war or terrorists, it_ was_. A fight built on hatred and things that didn't even make sense; innocent men and women thrown senselessly to their deaths because at the end of it all no one remembers the people themselves that fought the battles, just the outcome. The people never mean a thing. But nobody ever said she would have to tell one of her best friends that her baby had died; nobody told her the lies would fall so quickly from her tongue._

_This was unreal… the number of injuries and fatalities too high to count; for every man that is lost, his entire family is too. She deals with this sort of thing, she's been trained too but this time… there are just so many in her infirmary that aren't going to make it through the night. These are to be the last few hours of their lives and instead of spending them with their families. They're going to be forced to lie in a sterile environment being pumped full of drugs that aren't going to work and being told by smiling nurses and lying doctors that they're going to be fine. They wouldn't even get to say goodbye to their families._

_She has to go back in there and tell two of her friends that their baby was dead, that she'd lied to them out of her own selfish need to make herself feel better. How was she supposed to do that? They had tried for months to conceive that child and Doctor Mckay had been the happiest anyone had ever seen him as he'd practically bounced around the SGC telling everyone he met that he was going to be a father. Sam had been just as elated although slightly less flamboyant in her enthusiasm to tell her friends about her baby. And she's supposed to take that away?_

_Carolyn jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, wiping angrily at the tears "Cam," she says in surprise, the tears started again though she had not been aware that they had stopped and the sobs catch furiously in her throat. She doesn't resist as he pulls her too him, hugging her tightly and whispering nonsense into her hair until she's calmed down enough to speak, she doesn't want to. She wants to hide forever, pressed against his chest and inhaling a strange combination of scents, smoke, sweat, oil and something so distinctly Cam she finds the rapid hammering of her heart slowing to more manageable levels even as the hysteria threatens to break her voice "I'm sorry," she cries, going to wipe her eyes again but Cam beats her too it, brushing away stray tears with the backs of his fingers. _

"_What's wrong?" he asks, his concern evident and burning deep in his eye; it hurts to look because she can see something else, something foreign but stuck there that will never, ever leave after this._

_She flicks her hair back with a small shake of her head, reaching into her pocket and producing a piece of plastic-wrapped gauze, she tears the plastic off and presses the gauze to the nasty gash marring his forehead._

_He catches her wrist, wincing when it tugs on the deep wound marring the tender flesh of his palm and curling up around his wrist. He pulls the gauze away after a second, the blood has pretty much dried, it only looks wet because it's mixed with the sweat, dirt and whatever the hell else he's managed to get himself covered I, the bitter sting tells him that tears have probably found their way down as well "Carolyn…" he whispers because it makes his chest hurt to see her so distraught "what's wrong?" he repeats, determined to find out because, and the irony does not go unmissed 'a problem shared, is a problem halved'._

"_I didn't…" she starts crying again and she wishes she could regain enough control of her emotions that they wouldn't stop and start like this, she bites the inside of her lip until she tastes blood and it makes he feel sick to try and keep the tears at a manageable point "I lied to them, I told them that she was okay but she's not… she's dead and…"her chest feels tight and she knows, medically, why that's happening, but the fear still sets in, still makes it worse as she gasps for breath._

_Taken aback by her outburst Cam blinks owlishly, his mind stubborn and uncooperative "woah, hold up, you lied to who about what? Who's dead?"_

_So many dead… so many injured. The numbers are too high; the expected survival of those not yet lost is too low to even contemplate. Nothing is as it should be._

_Carolyn sniffs uselessly; "Rodney and Sam… they're baby… she didn't make it," she thinks she might choke, that passing out is a more viable option than this, but the blackness refuses to welcome her as she cries out "I told them that she was fine!"_

_He frowns "what?" he whispers breathlessly, then it dawns on him, the awful truth stunning him for a moment; he pales "Sam's baby…"_

_Carolyn shakes her head in confirmation "she didn't make it," she speaks hoarsely "and I told them that she was okay!"_

_Cam pulls her into another hug though that might be because she looks like if he doesn't, she'll collapse of her own accord and he is so exhausted he doesn't think he could pick her up again "they're happy aren't they?" he asks softly because he knows why she did it, he does not blame her and will be by her side - if that's what she wants – when the lies cannot go on, and she has to tell them the truth._

_Carolyn nods against his broad chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his back._

"_Then leave it," his voice is thick and sounds obscurely foreign but he kisses the top of her head anyway, "just for a little while let them think that she's all right,"_

There had been no room for anger when she had been told. Rodney had left the room at the next available moment and she did not blame him, words had washed over her in a useless haze. She had not cried, not for hours, yet when she had started, she had not been able to stop, sobbing into her pillow, curled on her side, arms wrapped around her swollen belly as she howled for the youngest victim of Adria's butchery.

At some point that night, Rodney had slunk back into the infirmary, and without saying a word, climbed onto the narrow hospital bed, enveloping her in a tight embrace as he shed his own tears, hot and wet against the back of her neck, by that point she had been beyond crying, staring blankly at the incomprehensible shapes the semi-darkness created. Instead, she had clasped one hand firmly around his, interlocking their fingers as he wept and she found herself sinking into a blackness she would never be able to fully escape from.

_Author's Notes: Please review!_

_Next Chapter: Carter comes to a conclusion, and Lexy has to confront some of the ghosts of her past._


	12. Praying to Statues

Chapter 12: Praying to Statues

Seven-three-zero-seven, prime. Five-six-seven-four, not prime. Six-one-one-three, prime. Two-zero-one-seven, prime. Three-eight-nine-five… not prime.

Prime, Not Prime lacks its entertainment value when you play it on your own, and it shouldn't have taken her that long to figure that last number out so it appeared that the game was also failing in regards to providing her with a stable enough distraction that she would be able to escape. This… she did not want this.

Her stomach had plummeted and her insides felt like they were lined with lead; she wanted to be sick, and for a moment, she thought she might be. It was cold and hot at the same time, her jacket stiff and unrelenting, no matter how frequently she had worn it. Lexy felt her throat constrict, a lump, thick, heavy and nauseating making her feel like she was choking as she trembled, shivering in the pleasant warmth of the delicate July breeze. The cold was deep-seated, locked down deep inside her self and she knew it was a place that would never warm up again.

Seven years since she had been any closer than the gates. Seven years since she had been forced to stand beside the empty graves of her parents and pretend she had something to stay to the stones that marked their supposed resting places. It was ridiculous to do this, it was wrong because they weren't there, nothing of them was buried six-feet beneath those markers because there had been nothing to bury. It was symbolic. It was stupid.

"_We are gathered here today…"_

No, no, no. Tears welled again, pulsing beneath her eyelids and trickling down her cheeks, sobs clawing angrily at her chest and her arms tightened around her midriff. She wanted to run, run until her limbs ached and burned with exertion, until her chest stung like liquid fire as air flew, coarse and gritty over her raw throat and lungs; she was good at running.

"…_not to say goodbye to Daniel and Vala but to wish them good luck on their new journey…"_

It had been a stupid ceremony with empty caskets and silly stone markers that meant nothing, nothing because the remains of the people whose names were carved into the granite for eternity would never come to lie beneath those stones. The priest had known nothing of how Daniel and Vala Jackson had died, merely presided over a funeral because that was his duty; a ceremony they both would have hated but at the same time must have wanted and that had confused the nine-year-old Lexy and the bewilderment was still as present in the sixteen year old as it had been then.

They could have been buried at Arlington, laid to rest amongst the war heroes but Daniel had refused to be labeled as such even before his death, his wishes being duly noted long before they could have dreamed of something like this happening, and Vala… Vala had simply decreed that she would lie wherever her husband did. And moreover, Lexy had found herself wondering even then, a priest who spoke of Gods and journeys and a whole bunch of other crap that had whole new meanings when you were a part of the Stargate Program, who thought that this is what they wanted. Lexy had hated the ceremony; she had not wanted to attend even then so what would ever possess her to want to be standing here now, seven years later without a word to say?

"_Lexy…" Carter pleads, rapping on the girl's bedroom door for the fifth time that morning "we really have to go,"  
_

"_Go without me," Lexy says resolutely._

_The door is locked. The twisting-catch of the door only accessible from the inside, but this had been the guest room until two days ago and they had not yet had time to turn it into a child's room, and Carter makes a mental note to make sure to tell Jack that, that lock was the first thing that would have to go the moment they got a chance. Tears prick at her eyes and she hates it because she is so tired of crying, she hasn't stopped in days; she's not sure she knows how anymore._

"_Lexy…" _

_Jack touches her arm gently "let me," he says, and his eyes are dark with emotion, but his grip is firm and trustworthy, his tone brooking no room for argument from her but a the same time allow affection to filter through with that tiny quirk of his lips that she is the only one privy too; the one that says everything he needs to but can't put into words._

"_Okay," she breathes and she hopes, more than anything, that he can do… something._

_Everything hurts, and the hurt won't stop, she can't help Lexy and she feels so damn powerless it makes her want to scream, to shoot something hard and fast and without compassion, to punch and pummel a bag with her bare fists so hard she sees blood; she's done that already, battering the punch-bag so viciously her knuckles had been left raw and skinned, two fingers fractured and each taped, to a separate, unbroken finger to limit the movement. _

_Jack was yet to say anything about the stark white tape splinting four of his partner's fingers but then he had spent the past five days in the shooting range, unloading round after round into the flimsy targets and roaring with frustration when it provided little relief. _

_She was not normally into inflicting pain on herself, but this… this was about anger and fury and loss of control, it was about having everything stolen in a moment because of a second's hesitation, a minute when they had thought it was okay to relax, relent on the proverbial laws that had ruled the SGC with a rod of iron ever since the siege which hard murdered so many._

"_Lexy," Jack taps on the door._

"_What?" _

"_Will you come out?" he asks tentatively, and he's not sure why; the child hardly poses a significant threat._

"_No," she answers firmly, definitively._

"_Okay," he breathes because he's okay with that, if she doesn't want to come out he won't make her "can I come in?"_

_There's a brief silence, the air crackling with tension, before there's a soft click and Jack knows the door has been unlocked. Wrapping his fingers around the handle he opens the door and steps inside. It's desolate, empty and cold, not physically, physically it's the same temperature as the rest of the house but it is so obviously not a child's sanctuary; boxes of papers and old copies of National Geographic are piled high across one side of the room, there's a single bed by the window on which the kid is sat, wrapped in a duvet. A small dresser and desk sit against the opposing wall; the curtains are drawn across the window. It is not a home for a child and his chest tightens as it hits him that he is now the one responsible for providing that for her._

_The door clicks shut softly behind him._

"_I'm not going," and she gives him a look that takes his breath away; eyes narrow, jaw tilted slightly upwards and expression resolute._

_It hurts, she looks so much like Daniel it makes his heart ache and his fury roar to the surface once more, the guilt rearing it's ugly head; he should have been able to do something and memories are flickering to the surface with a brutal intensity but he will not break, he refuses to cry, he's buried his best friend before and he can do it again. He likes to tell himself it gets easier but it never, ever does._

"_I won't force you," he says, licking his lips… how can a nine year old make him so damn nervous? _

_There's silence and it's as amicable as it can be in the circumstances. She picks at a loose thread on the duvet, before looking up, wide blue fixing on him as she whispers in a voice so croaky and foreign he feels his eyes welling up again but he is Jack O'Neill and he will, not, cry; "I hate her," she whimpers and then the dam breaks._

_The tears fall hot and fast down flushed cheeks, sobs threatening to all but rip her in two as she cries with so much anguish it is wrong to hear it coming from a child so young, he lifts her gently from her cocoon and pulls her into his lap, and she latches onto him instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. The tremors are so violent Jack can feel himself shuddering as they pass through her slight body and into his own, broader, frame._

_The words are so simple, but they are passionate, raw and so filled with pain it makes his chest ache. He doesn't need to ask to know who 'her' is, it's obvious and it's the only reason he doesn't rebuke her use of the word 'hate' because she's nine and hate isn't something she should know about. Hate is deep and rich and cold but it blazes like a fire, billowing thick, heavy smoke in a room heady with the fear it walks hand-in-hand with. They all hate her, and if anyone has a right to, it's the fragile little girl in his arms._

_He rests his chin atop her head, the un-brushed, blonde-brown curls tickle his chin and he tightens his arms around her, glancing down it is only now he notices that Lexy is swathed in blue, drowning in a jacket ten times too big for her. He inhales sharply and is hit by a soft odor that reminds him of Charlie for a moment and then a second later a stronger, more forceful scent familiar from occasional hugs and years of friendship, that has his throat catching and one, trembling hand moving to tilt the collar of the jacket the little girl he is cradling so carefully is sporting, and his eyes adjust to the poor lighting, making out the faded 'Daniel Jackson', written on the label of the standard issue BDU jacket that Lexy should not have off base but he will fight anyone who dare try to take that away from her. _

_Jack does not know how long he sits there, rocking back and forth, the sobbing orphan wrapped in her father's jacket and guardian's arms, and he is only aware of his own tears when Lexy has cried herself to sleep against his chest yet the hitching sound of sobs continues to echo disparagingly off the walls._

Anger flared for a second and she tried to coax into flourishing more readily, but it was dwindling, becoming a mild haze in the back ground as her eyes danced across the gravestones once again. Seven years dammit, she could do this, she'd _been_ doing it.

Jack had accepted the folded American flags in her place at the memorial service that had occurred in the 'gate room the day before. All flowers, wreaths, crying and gun-salutes, black and white and blue as civilians put on suits and the military sported their freshly pressed blues. Jack had put his on, even though he had not been an active officer of the USAF in several long years, the recently pressed fabric and shiny buttons and pins that adorned the formal dress giving him an aloofness which he maintained with perfection from his polished-leather shoes to his steely gaze when he had made a speech full of quirks and in-jokes that would ironically have once had Daniel sighing his friend's name in fond exasperation and now greeted a room filled with silence.

Lexy had not seen the flags since she had left for Atlantis; until that point they had held pride of place on the mantel above a fireplace they never lit and when she had returned, the flags had gone and she told herself she did not care where.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Carter crouching by a headstone whose name echoed in her head as readily as if someone had said it aloud and suddenly she felt guilty and selfish for arguing so vehemently but then… she had not said she would not wait if her Godmother wanted to visit Isobel.

Lexy found herself opening her mouth to speak but no sound would come out, and she felt her face burn with embarrassment and irritation that she had even contemplated talking to the headstones which she despised so passionately bearing the names of people that haunted her everyday, only now they were more real than ever and it was wrong; wrong, wrong, wrong.

"_Life does not end with death; we are returned to the loving arms of our Lord God and welcomed into the gates of heaven…"_

The voice of the priest echoed in her head and he wouldn't shut up, none of it would, a thousand voices screaming to be heard over one another and failing as the melee just continued and she was left tense and terrified because she'd spent so long running she doesn't know how to make it stop.

She was good at running, and fighting and outwitting everyone around her. She could manipulate and cajole the most steadfast souls without having to try very hard at all. She was barely seventeen but could pilot the puddle jumpers and the F307s masterfully; the Air Force plane providing more of a challenge owing to the fact she had to – and Mckay would probably explode if he thought she was degrading the Ancient spacecraft – do more than _think _at it. Nonetheless, the exhilaration both crafts supplied was enough to make her want to go up into the skies again and again and again. Learning to fly the puddle jumpers had been something Sheppard had taught her in secret, on his intermittent trips back to Atlantis after assuming the post as commander of the SGC, and the F307 a wary addition to her many abilities not too long ago.

Confrontation did not scare her, if anything it was a cheap thrill that lasted but minutes but was – in a sick sort of way – enjoyable at the time it took place and problems were fine too so long as they were academic, in fact she could deal with other problems too… providing they were not her own. Her own issues she did not face, she ran from, burying herself in anything that was available at the time just because she could; it hurt less, and ultimately, pain was something better kept at bay.

These… people who had appeared at the mountain were not her parents, no matter how much the looked and sounded like them, no matter how, for a moment, a tiny second when she had first laid eyes on them back in the gym, the first thing she had wanted to do was run up and through her arms around their necks to laugh and cry and pretend that none of it had ever happened. Her fists clenched at her sides as she contemplated this moment of weakness. She was not allowed weakness, she had to run and keep running, there was no where to go that would allow her the sanctuary she would need in order to just stop for a moment, but she couldn't stop could she? Not with Arthur's Mantle running out of power, and the modifications had weakened it, age aiding it in it's descent into uselessness. Not with Adria looming overhead… her stomach tightened and she thought for a moment she might be sick.

There wasn't time to stop, she… she was the key, and even if no one asked, and swore they did not think it, she could see it in their eyes. Coming from all of them, and she felt guilty because she didn't know what she was supposed to do and that, more than anything, was terrifying because she could do _anything_, between herself and Mckay, that was something they had made certain of, but the one thing she was suppose to be able to, she couldn't.

Unfolding her stiff arms she swiped away any indication of the tears that had betrayed her, fluffed her hair and straightened her jacket; determined to make herself feel somewhat more presentable before moving away and trudging back over to her Godmother, resolute in her decision leave the cemetery with some semblance of her dignity still intact.

* * *

Mckay shoveled the jello into his mouth at an alarming rate.

He had been helping his counterpart out in the labs, examining Arthur's Mantle for a viable way to extend to the life of the slowly dying machine but he had been loathe to touch it; the ridiculous notion that one wrong move could shut the thing off too soon haunting an imagination that he had just decided was far to active for a scientist to have anyway. Besides, hello – genius! Things don't just 'turn themselves off'. Nevertheless, he had left the lab with the excuse that he had not eaten in several hours and he did not want to suffer from a hypoglycemic attack… then he remembered he was talking to himself and therefore the information was unnecessary.

"Mind if I join you?"

He looked up, recognizing the voice but not the slightly hesitancy in the tone, "I was actually-" he cut himself off the moment he saw the look on Sam's face "go ahead," he cleared his throat and gestured.

"Thanks," she smiled feebly at him, taking the designated seat, and then he noticed she didn't have a tray with her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, and he couldn't hide the concern which was bizarre but there was something about the way she was studying him, making him feel self conscious and almost useless… not unlike he felt when one of his team members was in the infirmary… the image of Teyla lying on a gurney, eyes crossing with the effort to stay conscious and blood spreading from the wound to her side made his stomach do little flip-flops and he almost regretted eating at all.

Sam looked at him, what was she doing here? She should be avoiding him, trying to come to terms with this but for some reason she had been drawn in the opposite direction. He had as much right to know as she did… but… them? Together? It wasn't that Mckay was an unattractive man, she was sure he was to somebody – like that Katie girl he'd mentioned…

"Sam?"

She just wasn't, he was an ass, an arrogant, egotistical, self-assured ass and she was with Jack; what on Earth – though chances are not – would change that? She sounded shallow, even to herself, but in short, Mckay just wasn't her type, he annoyed her like no one else could, he could make her blood boil without even trying and - "um… do you want a coffee?"

He blinked at her. He had work to do, to try and sort out this shield even though it was technically nothing to do with them, and they had no business interfering, they had already done far too much and who was he to turn down a challenge? Besides, the look on General Sheppard's face, that infernal smirk, when he had pointed out his reasons for not wanting to get involved had been more than enough reason to attempt to fix whatever mess these people had gotten themselves into because proving Sheppard wrong, though petty, was always worth it.

"Sure," he found himself replying and Sam got to her feet, moving over the commissary line.

The decision wasn't hers to make but she would have to make it anyway. Her intentions had originally been to simply come down to the mess hall, and sharing with him what she had discovered because he had a right to know… didn't he? But now that sounded ridiculous even in her own head because why tell him at all? Why feed his ego and tell him that something would happen within the next few years that would result in them getting into a relationship? It wasn't worth it, besides, it wasn't her news to tell.

She picked the tray carrying the two mugs of instant coffee up and headed back to the table Mckay was sat at. Taking a calming breath that she did not doubt she would need sometime soon, she headed back over, smiling pleasantly as she retook her seat, telling herself the only reason she was hanging around was because she needed an excuse for coming to see him now she had no intention of telling him any time soon about Isobel and not because his company was in it's own bizarre little way, a comfort.

It had nothing to do with the fact that the prospect of being alone or indeed anywhere near her own team, who would instantly see through her façade of perfection, was making her feel panicked and nauseas. And she would never tell him that hearing him rant on about his genius right now was the perfect distraction, an eclectic hum she could focus on rather than the chill that had settled in her stomach ever since watching that awful video.


	13. Old Faces

Chapter 13: Old Faces

It was like being captive, held prisoner without even knowing the crime. Quarters and commissary and briefing room were the only places they could go without having to specifically ask. It was automatic, the guards would appear and take them to breakfast, lunch and dinner regardless of their own personal wishes and when quizzed, they remained dumbfounded and silent, their mouths saying nothing but their eyes begging for the questions to stop. It had taken her nearly twenty minutes to convince the airman who was leading her around, to take her to the control room.

She wanted to go through the 'gate, because then at least she wasn't on Earth anymore. She wasn't on this planet that looked so much like the one she had called home for the past few years but in fact, wasn't. A planet far, far away where the faces weren't familiar and the halls didn't haunt her with memories of things that seemed a lifetime away. Where people didn't look at her like she was some sort of zoo animal, something to stare at because it was bizarre and strange and entirely un-natural; these people saw aliens for goodness sake, why was six people from the past so different? Lest of all, why was _she_ so different? There was guilt there, a sorrow that laced the corridors and tainted the voices of the people who plucked up the nerve to talk to her. Even the young soldiers who couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty, who would have no hope of having known her before now treated her like porcelain.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Walter exclaimed and Vala could not hold back the smile that arose because of it; at least some things never change.

* * *

Daniel found her in the shooting range. Something that disturbed him a little more than he wanted to admit; she was his baby, his little girl, and though he knew the world she lived in demanded it, and he himself carried a gun on an almost daily basis, as did her mother, but the prospect of her holding a weapon in her hands sent a dizzying wave of nausea over him. Weapons meant danger, it meant she could throw herself into stupid situations and get herself hurt, and, perhaps even more harrowing neither himself nor her mother were around in this era to protect her… not that he was in the slightest doubt that everyone else did the best job they could but from what he had been privy to, it was frighteningly obvious how close to the proverbial edge the teen was.

A lump rose to his throat as his memory supplied him with images of walking into a pyramid on Abydos, dimly lit by a fire that cast shadows up the walls in a manner eerily reminiscent of a childhood all too brief spent in Egypt. He remembered standing in the doorway, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart and the deafening thrum of nerves throughout his body as he watched the defeated frame of a man who would later become his best friend. A man who had lost his own son a year before this mission took place, down to his own weapon, a spur of the moment rebellion Charlie had been but two years too young for that had resulted in his death. Jack had lost Charlie because of a gun, and yet here he was, watching his own daughter toss varying forms of ballistics around in her hands like they were mere play things. Her precision was awe-inspiring, but her tools terrified him more than he would ever be able to say.

"Hey," Daniel's mouth felt dry and he cleared his throat to attempt to make himself sound less uncertain of himself; years on SG1 had taught him that no matter whom it was he was talking to – enemy or daughter – he had to appear strong, that he knew what he was doing, no matter how apprehensive he was on the inside.

Lexy made a jerky movement, almost as if she had jumped because he had caught her unawares but at the same time somewhat akin to as if she had flinched; it made his chest ache to think that it most likely to be the latter; "what do you want?" she asked stonily "aren't you supposed to be under escort?"

"Can we talk?" he sighed warily.

She didn't even look up, slim fingers dancing lithely across the revolver in her hand, skimming across the barrel as she flipped open the chamber, checked the bullets and shut it again with a fluid flick of her wrist. Lexy pulled on a pair of protective orange goggles and raised the ear defenders that had previously been hanging around her neck to rest in place; "you might want to cover your ears," she said coolly, throwing him a spare pair before altering her stance so she was stood side-on to the target.

"_Squeeze the trigger don't jerk it," Lorne says, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing down on them firmly "you have to relax,"_

"_I am relaxed," she replies shortly, ponytail swishing as she looks over her shoulder to observe the Lieutenant Colonel through eyes narrowed with frustration and self-recrimination._

"_No you're not," _

_He's smiling at her fondly and that just makes her all the more determined to get this right._

"_How am I supposed to relax?" she says shortly, but takes a calming breath all the same._

_He sighs patiently "you can't be afraid of the gun Lex," he says softly, lifting her arm a little because it's not quite level with her shoulder, there's a dull ache because she's been standing like this for a good twenty minutes._

"_I'm not afraid of it,"_

"_Come on," his voice is firm in her ear and he bends his knees a little so his head is level with hers, "look down your arm, now-"_

_She takes a deep breath and screws her eyes shut in anticipation of the bang that she knows will ricochet around the Atlantis shooting range the moment she lets the bullet fly._

"_No," he says firmly, because he's told her a hundred times and she knows she should really actually do what he says but the gun is heavy in her palm, the metal sweat-slicked not because she's warm because she's not, but because she's nervous and she hates being nervous; "breath normally… that's it," he praises her "keep your eyes open…"_

Lexy shook her head and ignored the fact she could feel Daniel's gaze burning into the back of her skull and pulled the trigger. The paper target cracked loudly as a series of bullets ripped through it.

"Lexy!" Daniel said into the small microphone attached to the headset currently protecting his ears from the resounding ring of bullets ripping from the mouth of the still slightly smoking gun in his daughter's hand "we need to talk,"

"No," she spoke smoothly "we don't,"

"You can't keep avoiding us-"

Her head span so fast on her shoulders it should have hurt her neck but if it did she made no sound of pain as she glared at him through piercing blue eyes "watch me,"

Another volley of bullets flies through the air, ripping a second target to shreds.

"Lexy!" he exclaims again, but this time in exasperation.

He was used to dealing with a baby, a tiny child who squealed when he walked into a room, who laughed when he made airplane noises as he cajoled her into eating the most disgusting looking food he'd ever seen, who, before she could walk, had been teasing Mitchell at ever opportunity. He wasn't ready to deal with a teenager with an answer for everything who somehow managed to revolt against anyone with authority without actually stepping over the proverbial line.

"We're your parents," he implored.

Lexy laughed wickedly, tugging off the ear defenders and throwing the safety specs down next to the plethora of weapons she was yet to test "no, Daniel, you're not," she pinched the bridge of her nose as she turned to face him.

"Then what are we?" he felt lost, completely helpless, pulling his own headset off as well and placing it next to hers.

She scrutinized him carefully, aware of the fact he was watching her every move. He looked far younger than she remembered; his hair was a little shorter though in her own memories it had never been as long as the photographs she had seen of the original SG1 and the lines around his eyes weren't anywhere near as pronounced but other than that he looked every inch her father and that, more than anything, was what hurt. It wasn't that Cassie and Aunt Sam hadn't told her about the visit nor that Sheppard had let her Godmother escort their visitors down to see in her a room where they all knew she would be cornered. No, it was that these imposters were everything she was trying so hard to pretend they weren't.

Whilst she did not agree, nor was she willing to acquiesce and respond as everyone seemed to think she should. This should not happen, and though she had grown up with Stargates, aliens and dozens of other's incredible things… this was _impossible_. Now, seven years after they had died for both of them to be _right there_.

"You say it like it's easy," she said and her voice was soft, like all the barriers had fallen away "you seem to think that just because you're here, that makes everything okay. Like I can just forget the fact that you died and then everything will be fine,"

Daniel blinked at her, he understood what she was saying far more than she could probably realize, both from the fact that he would probably have had a hard time dealing with it if his parents suddenly appeared in front of him alive and well, but also because anthropologically speaking this was a perfectly normal way for her to react. Not that there were any situations that he could draw parallels to.

"Can't it be?" he regretted it the moment he said it because it was an incredibly naïve and stupid thing to say "can't we just… talk?"

"No," she hissed, and the barriers were back up in seconds "because _you're dead!"_

"Lexy," he begged, desperation clouding anything else "we're not dead, we're right here," he moved towards her but she skittered back, like a wild animal he had inadvertently spooked; this was so _hard_, "I'm right in front of you," he took another step towards her, cautiously "_I'm_ not dead,"

* * *

"Who is it?" Sheppard jogged into the control room, flashed his trademark grin in Vala's direction and put a hand on the back of the 'gate technician's chair, leaning over to view the computer screen himself.

"SG5 sir," Walter replied.

Sheppard straightened up "open the iris,"

A moment later the shield retracted and four people tumbled down the 'gate ramp, the bang of bullets and zap of energy-based weapons echoed off the walls.

"Shut it down!" a young marine shouted from her position at the base of the ramp, her weapon raised and firing frantically back through the wormhole as she used her own body to shield that of a male scientist who was yet to move from his position on the floor; it was a safe bet that the man was unconscious.

"You heard her," Sheppard clapped Walter on the shoulder "get a med team down there stat!" he ordered no one in particular as he took the stairs down to the 'gate room two at a time.

Vala moved closer to the glass, she had instinctively stepped back when the team had come in hot, but now her curiosity held no bounds and with lack of anything else to do, she found herself idly wondering if she knew anyone on SG5; unlikely given the respective ages of the scientist and the marine but worth a look. What she did not expect however, was to find her gaze captured by that of her former husband, clad in SGC supplied BDUs and a USAF standard issue P-90 look-a-like cradled in his palms.

"Tomin?"

* * *

"It's not that simple!" she cried it as if he'd said it was, but he knew what she thought he had been insinuating, and maybe, by accident, he had been "you _are_ dead Da… Daniel," her father's forename tasted odd and she didn't really like saying it at all but she'd been damned if she called him 'dad' after this. After everything "and nothing you say will change that,"

"I'm not trying to change anything," but he was, he knew he was but not the way she thought; he wasn't trying to replace anyone, after all, how do you replace _yourself_? He just wanted to try and fix this, to talk to her, to get her to talk to Vala because he wasn't sure how much longer he could stand seeing the expression of total defeat on his wife's face "but I really think that maybe-"

"I don't care what you think. Eight years ago I might have cared but now?" she took a breath and with it her anger seemed to fade, expelled in that simple motion "now you're not even real,"

He was real. That was the point. Point, problem and fact. Poignant and final. He was real and that made everything all the worse.

The fact that he could stand there and tell her with all honesty that he was alive was worse in a way because that gave her the option of accepting it, of being able to surrender the past seven years to a nightmare that never happened…

But it had happened.

They _had_ died when she was nine and she had watched them crumple and cry at her sister's feet.

She _had_ escaped with the tatters of her life hanging in rags around her with the help of a man previously devoted to the destroyer of everything she had held dear.

She _had_ gotten Mckay to smuggle her into Atlantis when she was ten years old.

She _had_ been just getting her life to a point where she could say she was okay again and mean it.

And then they'd come back and she felt like she was nine years old all over again.

Out of control and determined to find an exit, but there was no escape route because there was no danger. This was supposed to be safe but it wasn't. The siege had proven that, the countless attacks on the base since the Stargate had first been opened under the mountain. Atlantis was safe. No one could hurt her on Atlantis; there were labs and bright blue lights, the pier where she had sneaked her first beer with Laura Cadman, the jumper bay where Sheppard had first taken her up in one of the Ancient spacecraft, her room. She missed her room. She missed the constant hum of the city beneath her feet, the lap of the waves as she slept and trained and worked. Atlantis was home. This… this wasn't home. It hadn't been nearly a decade.

Looking down at her hands, Lexy saw the gun still cradled there and she dropped it on the table as if it had burnt her, walking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.


	14. Audacity

Chapter 14: Audacity

"Why're we still here?" Cam asked, throwing a ball of rubber bands against the wall and lunging to catch it when it rebounded at an angle "I mean, they don't know anything,"

"They need help," Daniel said wearily, arms folded across his chest and resisting the urge to snatch the infernal ball out of the air "it's not like we can just abandon them,"

"The device is imprecise," Sam said slowly, headache pinching at her temples "I said it was a bad idea to try this in the first place,"

"At least we didn't end up in the Jurassic Period," Mckay supplied, his tone droll and his expression one of weary exasperation as he observed SG1 "I'll take doppelgangers over dinosaurs any day of the week,"

"Oh I dunno," Cam grinned ironically "least we could shoot at a velociraptor,"

"Velociraptors are from the Cretaceous," Daniel said mildly, almost as if it was obvious and he was mocking his team leader but Cam couldn't tell for sure so said nothing.

"What do you suggest Colonel Carter?" Teal'c asked, eyeing Sam carefully, his eyebrows raised and hands clasped neatly in front of him.

Sam glanced at Mckay, who was painfully oblivious to things that she knows she should be too. She shouldn't know about Isobel, she shouldn't know about any of it. She shouldn't be here. None of them should be. They _should_ be in their own time, trying to jump through was a bad idea from the start, and a part of her didn't even want to look at the device to try and send them back just in case it couldn't. The thought of being stuck here made her head spin; it would seem that no matter when or where they were they were still screwed.

It would be easy to get cocky, to assume that they'd done it once they could do it again. They'd beaten the Goa'uld, the Replicators, they've kicked alien ass on more than one occasion so it wouldn't be hard to think they could do it again. Sure the odds were high, the enemy stronger than ever but since when did that make a difference? They'd thought the same when the Program had begun, it had been thought a thousand times since, and every time they'd pulled through. Miracles being conjured out of no where, new technology, new weapons, ideas and completely insane shouldn't-work stunts that some how _did._ Why not this time? Why jump through time, pulling strings they had no right to pull, stealing moments they shouldn't touch and learning things that would never ordinarily cross their minds?

Mckay was probably fixing her with an odd look, and though that would never be abnormal, she knew that her staring at him was, shaking her head and running a hand through her blonde hair she blinked and gave a somewhat fake half smile that should have passed for 'oh-silly-me-daydreaming-again' but she was pretty sure failed miserably.

"Sam?" Daniel asked, he looked edgy and it was no small wonder, Sam supposed.

Vala had made it quite clear she did not approve of the security protocols and despite their best efforts to stop her, they had been unable to justify the reasons their counterparts had for keeping them under close observation. It probably didn't help that Sam herself had, had her own attempt at running off but a fat lot of good that had done her – providing her with information she had not actively sought from the beginning and only succeeding to throw her into further turmoil. What was she supposed to do with this information? Should she tell Mckay? How would he react? It would probably just fuel his ego and God-knows that didn't need to get any bigger.

She did not know where Vala was and judging by the expression on Daniel's face and his sudden inability to keep still, it would be an easy assumption that he did not know either. Sam shot him a sympathetic look which he caught and nodded once in acknowledgement; it was small compensation but Vala could not have gone far. Searching Lexy out most likely, though how that would help Sam was not sure, for the girl was seemingly the master of evasion tactics, not to mention everything else she appeared to have taken a firm hand in. Besides, one look at her parents and it was no surprise that she was as stubborn and defensive as she was, admittedly her devices differed a little but you take Daniel's insecurities when he first returned from Abydos and all the intelligence that came with, add in Vala's confidence and façade of self-assuredness and you've got a bomb just waiting to blow up.

"I don't know if the device can be calibrated precisely enough to send us back," Sam said and she couldn't help a poorly-veiled 'I told you so' sneaking in "but I did mention that when we started all this,"

"Of course the device can be calibrated again," Mckay jumped in "there are _two_ of me in this timeline," he grinned smugly.

Sam sighed and resisted the urge to glare at him, what would have possessed her to be attracted to that sort of arrogance? Things must really change in the coming years for that to even become a vague possibility.

"So what do you suggest?" Cam stopped tossing the ball around, settling for spinning it in his palm absently "should we do what Jackson said?" he jerked his head in Daniel's direction and gave him a curt nod "do we help them?"

Sam sighed, "For the moment," she said "it doesn't look like we have much of a choice."

* * *

The floor was hard against the balls of her feet, her sneakers slamming down hard as she jogged through the halls. Probably not the best place to run track but it was the _only_ place she was going to feel anywhere near comfortable doing so until she went back to Atlantis where she could run through the halls to her hearts content. Laura would go with her, or the new recruits, hell if she felt anywhere near this anxious when she returned to the city she might even dare to cajole Ronon into running with her; could give him brief reprieve from the twins though she would undoubtedly have to make it up to Teyla afterwards. It would probably be worth it though.

_The water laps at the walls of the city lazily, a huge expanse of inky black extending as far as the eye can see. The lights illuminating the city behind them are soft, the majority dimmed to necessary levels save for the odd one in the science labs or living quarters, and the rest are mostly switched off. It's a nice night, the stars are bright in the sky and the twin moons hover serenely in a state of constant companionship, like chalk baubles on a canvas of velvet; soothing and awe-inspiring in the same breath._

"_I think Mckay's mad at me," Lexy says slowly, regret lacing her every word, crossing her legs and plucking at a loose piece of cotton on her pants._

_Cadman turns her head, blonde hair glowing a little in the halo of gold that the city provides behind her "Mckay gets mad at everyone," she replies with a half-shrug and a quirk of her lips._

_Lexy's quiet and Cadman feels sorry for her, not in a pitying sort of way because she doesn't want to sweep the teenager into a hug and wrap her in cotton wool – she's Captain Laura Cadman, _marine_ thank you very much – she doesn't see a girl who lost her parents like everyone on Earth apparently does but tonight she looks lost and dejected and Cadman finds her curiosity spiking._

"_What happened?"_

_Lexy is quiet for a moment and Cadman doesn't push her because Lexy will tell her if she wants too, Laura Cadman is not the sort of woman who prods where it's not necessary. It's a habit, she supposes, or a projection of how she prefers people to approach her._

"_I messed up,"_

_Cadman looks at her, frowning quizzically "how?"_

"_I made Sheppard take me with him, he didn't want to but I wanted to go through the 'gate – it was perfectly safe!" she exclaims hotly but she's not sure who she's trying to convince, herself or the Captain._

_Cadman chuckles beneath her breath; of course it had been safe, a freak accident, reckless with his own life Colonel Sheppard may be, but he never willingly endangered one of his team mates and certainly not that of a child; "Sheppard wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to," she says with what she hopes is an encouraging grin. " From what I've heard Sheppard's pretty bad at following orders, no matter who gives them to him - that includes your uncle Jack,"_

_Lexy shakes her head determinately, as if she is unwilling to accept the idea that this is not her fault, that there's no one to blame. Sure Mckay's pissed as hell and Sheppard is doing his best impression of a recalcitrant schoolboy but the truth is as soon as he's out of the infirmary, the two of them will yell at each other, neither saying the words 'I'm sorry' but both expressing it in their myriad of odd mannerisms that pass for communicative skills, and that will be that. There is no blame, no one got that badly hurt, no one's dead and it could have happened to anyone, it's just Pegasus Galaxy irony that it was Sheppard and Lexy; the two biggest trouble magnets this side of the Milky Way._

"_They're not talking,"_

_Cadman shrugs and she knows who Lexy is referring to, albeit she cannot understand why the girl is so determined that this is some great catastrophe; "they do that," there's no need for adverse concern; people enjoy watching their Military Commander and Head of Science bicker like six year olds as much as they enjoy doing it, its so familiar it's unnerving when it stops but it never lasts long. It's a pattern they follow, something they do and became such an integral part of the expedition that it took far too long to get used to it's absence when Sheppard was reposted._

"_Sheppard's in the infirmary," Lexy deadpans, because that's enough reason to feel guilty, somebody was hospitalized because of her and there is no excuse for that._

"_When isn't he?" she counters but Lexy gives her an odd look "you've been here what… three years?" she does not wait for conformation "and how many times have you seen the two of them argue?" _

_Heard was probably a more accurate term, though seen worked almost as well because video feeds were frequent and on the odd occasion Sheppard was permitted back to the city – like now – it was like he'd never left; in one way or another, the man was always present. It wasn't exactly like he couldn't be, because even now, John Sheppard was still Atlantis' golden boy, the Ancient city obeying his commands like no one else's in a manner that, despite many of the scientists' insistence, was yet more prove that she was sentient._

_Lexy is forced to concede her friend's point._

"_It's how they work. They shout at each other, curse and stamp their feet, five minutes after that you'll find them being total geeks together again," she teases and it elicits a smile so she feels like she's succeeded at least partially._

"_Yeah," Lexy agrees softly, looking out across the ocean, it's calm tonight but the soft roar of the waves in the distance is reassuring, the horizon is invisible but an illusion even if she could see it, it's humbling thinking about the universe, the sheer size of it too much to get your head around._

"_Mckay blew up a solar system once," Cadman offers the information even though that topic is not one generally discussed anymore because Rodney clams up, Sheppard tenses and Ronon and Teyla just shoot you looks that make you feel tremendously guilty; team dynamics are strange even when that 'team' does not necessarily exist anymore "so I highly doubt their friendship is gonna be wrecked because Sheppard took you out in the 'jumper,"_

"_He let me fly it too," she volunteers because it was wonderful even if not entirely true, Sheppard had sat back a little in the pilot's seat, letting her stand between his knees as he directed her, yet she still feels exhilarated now but she shouldn't because the only reason Sheppard's got a broken arm and concussion is because of her._

"_Lexy," Cadman admonishes because she knows what she is thinking "Sheppard is the best pilot the Air Force has, it was a rookie mistake to let himself get distracted like that,"_

"_By me,"_

"_He's not that badly hurt,"  
_

"_Mckay's mad at both of us,"_

"_No," she sighs because it should be obvious, sometimes she can see why the two attracted one another, they are both so obtuse "he's mad at himself,"_

_Lexy shakes her head, ponytail swinging._

"_By Earth law you are under the guardianship of Colonel Carter and General O'Neill. By Atlantis law you are under his. You're thirteen years old Lexy you can't take the blame for everything," Cadman feels more than a little exasperated and she's determined to go and find Mckay as soon as she's dealt with Lexy and kick his ass until he explains himself "He is responsible for you and Sheppard essentially kidnapped you-"_

"_He did not!"_

_Cadman is not surprised by the strength of her indignation, whilst Rodney is her rock, Sheppard acts like her older brother half the time, despite the – and no offence to the Colonel intended at all – huge age difference. He's the one who sneaks her candy through his rare, but not as infrequent as one might expect, visits. Who takes her to the mainland to play football with the Athosian kids every time he gets the chance. Who bought her, her own Nintendo and teaches her how to play the guitar by sending self-recorded videos through every time there's a new data burst so she has something to do when Mckay's busy in the labs she isn't allowed into unless under strict supervision. For all Mckay does his best, he tries too hard to compensate for the fact he is not her parent, nor her legal guardian. Lexy worships him still but even Cadman can see the change since the girl was brought to Atlantis._

_The relationships between all of them in the city are unconventional and bizarre, the IOA would have a field day if it ever got wind of half the allegations that flew around the city, sometimes its hard not to take things to heart because some of the rumors could ruin careers, but you have to for the sake of friendship and the closest to an 'easy life' they'd ever get. Besides, you can barely ever take anything people say when they're not talking shop seriously because most of it's just speculation and obscure fantasy, people with weird senses of humor and some with minor grudges. Hey, she's apparently fucked half the city and surely if anyone knew that was happening it would be her. Life is so much like high school, even all the way out here, it's laughable._

"_Okay, maybe kidnap is too strong of a word…"_

_The 'ya-think' look is trademark O'Neill and Cadman smirks._

"_My point is, Mckay thinks that whatever happens to you is his fault. He's mad because you put yourself in danger. Because he let you do that. Because he knows he can't protect you from even a third of the things you should be kept away from. Because he left Sheppard to look after you and he got hurt. Because it could have been you not the Colonel who got a busted arm. Because he's actually glad his best friend is the one injured." she pauses for breath "but their friendship isn't gonna fall apart because of some dumbass mistake,"_

_Lexy doesn't say anything but she nods minutely. She can't argue with that, she just has to trust that everything is going to be okay again because she's not sure what she'd do if it's not. Earth is messed up, she can't go back, she _won't_ go back, it's not home, but she can't screw up here either. What's stopping Mckay sending her back though? This place, these people… they're the closest to normal she's felt since long before her parent's deaths. If she ruins it then whose to say they aren't going to want her to leave?_

"_What's that?" Lexy asks, attention caught by a box peeking out of Cadman's pants' pocket._

"_These?" Cadman plucks the carton out "somethin' I won from one of the guys at poker the other night," why someone would have a pack of smokes with them she doesn't know, nor how they got them but when you're stuck on an Ancient outpost in another galaxy, poker stakes are few and far between._

"_You smoke?" _

"_No," Cadman laughs "not since high school,"_

_Lexy cocks her head to one side "did you like it?"_

_Cadman frowns a little but shrugs it off "no,"_

"_Can I try one?"_

Mckay had ripped into Cadman after that, giving her a dressing down like Lexy was sure she'd never been given before in her life, and Lexy herself had gotten similar treatment. She'd tried one little inhalation and promptly choked, Cadman had taken the cigarette and flicked it into the ocean with a smirk that had said 'told you so' even though she'd said no such thing.

She stopped, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. The muscles in her legs were burning, her chest felt like someone was sat on it but the pain was good, it kept her grounded rather than getting lost in a sea of might-have-beens. In her perfect world, the one that she could dream up whenever she felt like but didn't, Adria would never have attacked the base, Landry wouldn't be in a care home, Nick would have died of whatever the medical term nowadays was for 'old-age' and she, mom and dad would all be living happily ever after in Atlantis. Dad had wanted to live there ever since they'd found the thing so he would've had no objections, mom would follow him wherever he went and she… she'd been in that city, lived there for a good portion of her life there was no way she could ever live anywhere else, at least not for an extended period of time. She understood how Sheppard found it so hard to stay away. Her time in the city had frequently been spent in anticipation of his next unprecedented visit because even though the cloud that had settled over her still drifted above her head like a shroud, his enthusiasm and lackadaisical attitude he had to pretty much everything was, in many ways, infectious. In her perfect world Sheppard would still have his city, mom and dad wouldn't dead, Sam would have her baby and Mitchell… actually she didn't care much for what Mitchell did. Nonetheless that world did not exist, and imagining it so was a fruitless waste of her time.

They had known for five years that this would happen, that this imposters would appear and just try and filter back into old positions as if nothing had happened. But it had; so much had. This Daniel and Vala… they weren't real, they couldn't be, and they sure as hell had no right to try and fit in here because there was no place for them. Mckay had known, so had Sam and Jack, even Cassie, someone could have told her, Dawn could have sent her a message or even the letter itself. They should have given her the choice as to whether or not she wanted to witness this, given her the opportunity to run as fast and as far as she could. It had been a long time since anyone other than Teyla and Ronon had gotten the jump on her like that, and even then that was only during sparring sessions.

Having Daniel stand there, talking to her like he had before, using that same voice, the same facial expressions and the same reasoning skills he used now only in memories made her stomach do somersaults, twisting and then sinking as it made it's discomfort known. Squeezing her eyes shut, whether in exertion or for some other reason she did not want to identify she took several deep breaths, try to even out the erratic gasps for oxygen that came with running for too long.

"Lexy Jackson to General Sheppard's office," the intercom sounded above her head, the voice roughened by the radio's sound system.

Pushing herself away from the wall, Lexy sighed determinedly and headed back down to the corridor with a weary shake of her head.


	15. Conviction

Chapter 15: Conviction

Sheppard's office was not unfamiliar territory for her. She'd been in their dozens of times. Its low level lighting, majestic desk and walls lined with framed document she had never bothered to try and identify. There was a photograph on the desk of himself, Mckay, Ronon and Teyla, taken in the third or fourth year of the Atlantis expedition judging by the absence of age-lines and greying hair. Lexy found she actually quite liked being in the General's office, its definitive lines and perfect precision, despite the forever mounting pile of paperwork on the desk and half-buried laptop he had never bothered to fully understand, much to Mckay's frustration.

"Hey there sport," Sheppard grinned as he walked back into his office; he would have asked her if she was okay if he didn't already know that she'd reply the same way she always did 'I'm fine', 'I'm okay' like she thought people couldn't see straight through that.

"Hey," she replied just as softly "what d'ya need?"

"SG5 got back this morning," he took his seat behind the desk, reclining almost lazily, stopping just short of swinging his feet up onto the desk.

Before she had time to respond, Tomin walked around the corner, walking into the room with a wide smile on his face "Lexy-Claire," he said politely, her full name falling from his lips with the same unique twang enunciating the syllables in a way no one else managed to.

"Tomin!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, his arms coming up almost of their own volition, enclosing the smaller frame in a gentle embrace until she pulled back "it's good to see you again," she said gently.

Tomin gave her a fond look "last I saw you, you were leading one of the evacuation teams out to…" he paused as if uncertain of how to continue, or maybe more poignantly, he knew _how_, but wasn't sure if he _wanted _to "Atlantis," he settled for.

She nodded "think I got pulled from that though," she shot Sheppard a reproachful look and the General sighed.

"Not my orders," he said, hands up in surrender "Woolsey wanted you grounded until… they arrived,"

"Yeah well the President's an ass,"

Sheppard gave her a mild look, eyebrows quirking in amusement; "only you could think comments like that are the norm Lex," he laughed.

Lexy shrugged "you agree with me," she retorted.

He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment to stop himself laughing "not the point," he conceded; "though I suspect Mckay's had his hand in that opinion,"

"Oh come on John!" she answered "it doesn't exactly take much to come to the conclusion that Woolsey's about as much use as-"

Sheppard cleared his throat "and that's where I think I'm gonna cut you off," he gave her a pointed look to which she rolled her eyes but accepted his reprisal "Tomin," he said "what happened out there?"

* * *

"Vala!" Daniel exclaimed, jogging a little down the corridor to catch her "I've been looking all over for you!"

"I'm not that hard to find Daniel," she said, though her tone was more contemplative than anything else, the depression that had sunk in since their arrival in this time appeared to have dissipated, taken the back seat to other things that had crept onto her mind.

He gave her an odd look "apparently you are," he said dryly "where've you been?"

Vala shrugged "here and there," she replied vaguely.

Daniel caught her arm, spinning her to look at him as she attempted to quicken her pace; "Vala," he said slowly, almost warningly, but more than anything, concerned "what's going on? You okay?"

She fixed him with a terse look. There was no point disagreeing and saying that no, she wasn't okay, and then to go onto list all the things that weren't; it served no purpose and she was not inclined to waste time whining about the impossibilities of a situation they were blatantly stuck in. But on that same hand, there was not a chance she was going to lie and say she was fine; that was Daniel's thing.

"Stupid question," he said, looking a little uncomfortable, "um… I uh… tried talking to Lexy…"

That perked her interest and she looked him squarely in the eye. He was immediately hit with an immense sensation of having lost but what it was he had misplaced he didn't know. The disappointment in her eyes mingled with hope and that burned like ice, the knowledge he could do nothing to help this, to fix it. Said a lot really; the linguist who could speak nearly thirty languages, was fluent in more dead tongues than most had heard of and could negotiate peace treaties with hostile alien life-forms, but he couldn't even talk to his own daughter without getting blown off.

He should know all the tricks, the little ruses you used to get out of things you didn't want to be involved with, the questions (or lack thereof) to ask, and those you didn't, the million and one ways to avoid people, to push them away, how to run circles around people without them noticing until they had tied themselves in more knots than should be strictly possible. He should know all that. He _did_ know all that and yet this was far more difficult than anything he had ever done before. It shouldn't be that difficult and yet it was. He knew how to erect the walls and bring them down again, he knew how to get under the barricades and… and… and this was different.

It was all there, just out of reach. He could see her, touch her if he dared to risk any appendages getting close enough to do so, he could _hear _her. She was real, and that more than anything was a terrifying prospect. The fact that they could try so hard, put everything they had into raising their child and yet they still had to watch their little girl grow into someone who hated the world and all the people in it, watching her morph from the bubbling laughter of innocence and naivety to the jaded sense of necessity and fact. Turn away from everyone for reasons he could not understand. He and Vala were dead. Why? What had happened? What was going to take place in the next sixteen years that would effectively destroy everything he worked so hard to protect?

Vala harrumphed when he did not respond instantaneously "how long did you spend in the infirmary?" she quipped, levering her arm smoothly out of his grip before moving on again.

She couldn't stay still. Couldn't stand and watch his face as he tried to explain it to her. There was nothing she could understand, nothing she was sure she wanted to. The answers she sought might not be the ones she wanted to accept and by God she had seen enough to know that sometimes not knowing is far better than the truth. You uncover everything then the magic is lost, the hope that accompanies ignorance destroyed in one swift breath of honesty that rips the whole world apart at the seams. Sometimes, even when you think you want to know so badly it physically hurts, not knowing is the best thing you can do. She wasn't sure, torn in two directions as she attempted to come to terms with the idea that this was real. There were here, in this time and Lexy… Lexy was nothing like she had imagined.

Instead of a girl she was a woman, a soldier none the less, under the tuition of the best minds in two galaxies. How did that happen? How did Lexy-Claire Jackson, daughter of the outcast and the alien become the pivot for the whole universe? Everything relying on one teenager, how stupid was that? How _clichéd? _

Vala did not believe for one minute that it was possible, that Lexy could possibly be the person everyone said she was. Adria was conceived in a manner she had no way of being able to distinguish but Lexy… Lexy was conceived naturally, okay so she was more a child of happenstance than one of intention but she was still... there was no miracle involved nor science nor magic; she was nothing like Adria. There was no chance that it could ever be fair that she and Adria should have to face each other off and Vala was no more inclined to put her daughter in that situation as a teenager than she was as a baby. It just wasn't… what on Earth – the most likely not – had gone wrong?

"Vala," he said slowly, ignoring her last remark because he had no idea how exactly to respond to that, and more to the point he probably wasn't supposed to "dammit Vala will you stop walking away from me?"

"I'm sorry Daniel but I just… please I just need some space for now," she had promised herself that she would not look at him but it was a promise she could not keep, she owed it to him to do so but that by no means meant she did not regret it. His expression hurt, blue eyes sad and almost betrayed "I won't do anything stupid Daniel," she said, though the intonation of his name appeared to add an extra syllable "I just need a little bit of time on my own,"

He nodded and watched her walk away, hurrying around the corner.

* * *

"PLJ-917 has been overrun by Adria's soldiers," Tomin reported "the village we were boarded in was attacked," he looked melancholic, as if he blamed himself for the actions of the enemy warriors "the entire population wiped out in a single gesture. Destroyed before our very eyes,"

Lexy touched his arm gently, fixing him with a sympathetic look. She glanced at Sheppard but his face was carefully schooled against all emotion as he stared studiously at Tomin as he reported the mission gone awry with far more empathy than most of the Earth-trained soldiers demonstrated. He could ask questions later, in the formal briefing, and the mission reports that would be filed and added to the ever-growing pile of paperwork on his desk.

"Men first," Tomin continued, "then the women and children, slaughtered... it was like nothing I have ever seen nor taken part in. "First Lieutenant Richardson ordered us back to the gate when Captain Waters was shot down."

Sheppard nodded "thank you Tomin," he said sincerely, then without being prompted he filled the man in on the status of his team, knowing from first hand experience the first thing he wanted to hear was how his friends and comrades were doing "Waters is currently in surgery but the Doc thinks he'll pull through, other than that your team is fine," he smiled a little "I suggest you go take a shower then report to the infirmary yourself,"

Tomin nodded then got to his feet, gave the General a polite nod and smiled a little at Lexy before retreating again.

"Sheppard…" Lexy started; "how many have we lost now?"

The General rubbed a hand across his eyes, looking, well _old_ all of a sudden, tell-tale creases around his eyes and the defeated slump of his shoulders more of a give away than they should have been "too many," he replied softly, "if we don't find a way to get Arthur's Mantle to stabilize soon there's nothing we can do," he hated saying that, even thinking it.

Back on Atlantis when the stakes were high, the odds were stacked against them a hundred to one he never thought it, never accepted defeat but now, sat in a dingy office pushing pencils for a living and having not seen a real fight in years left him feeling out of the game. Like he was playing The Game with Rodney all over again, plotting manoeuvres, forming armies and attempting to forge peace treaties with know active participants in the lives of those involved. But this wasn't a game, it never has been, it's not like getting to Geldar and finding out that the whole thing was real, no this has never felt fake, he'd been playing with people's lives since he took the position as Commanding Officer of Stargate Command, the men and women under his command like pawns being forced into battle even when he wasn't sure what the field looked like.

For Christ's sake, Lexy was trained in God-knows how many forms of combat, she could fly puddle jumpers, the F309s, much to the horror of many senior soldiers and the amazement of the IOA because who gets their piloting licence before their driver's licence? She'd been in the field, she'd fought too, she could fire guns, load weapons. He'd corrupted her, said yes to every wish, every command because the girl was just that good, their very own super-soldier, but in all honesty, when was the last time Lexy did something _normal? _Okay, yeah, she can hardly lead a normal life, not with what she knows, what she grew up surrounded by and the world she's watching crumble with no way to stop it, but they could try and let her.

There was a time, when Lexy had first gone to Atlantis, and he'd been stationed Earth-side – Rodney had joked once or twice about it almost being a fair trade – when he'd visited ever chance he got, just to hang out with his friends and play switch-boy for the labs, and he'd always made sure Lexy did something other than science and training. When it had been football and soccer on the mainland, candy, movies, games and laughter as he fumbled through old music books to try and teach her the guitar both in person and by videos he'd filmed just to try and make sure the girl had something more than work in her life. He couldn't pinpoint a time when that stopped, when instead of soccer it was flying lessons, crappy Disney cartoons and _Back to the Future_ marathons turned into lessons on how to load and reload a P-90, games became constructing targets out of old junk the science lab had no use for. Lexy was good at all that, the Ancient gene in her naturally occurring and almost as strong as his own, she was a quick learner, smart, witty and determined beyond reason but none of that made up for the fact that nobody had learnt to say no to her. Only unlike normal teenagers it wasn't parties and boys – he once wondered who Rodney had frightened into giving _that_ talk when the time had arisen but the venomous look the astrophysicist shot him was enough for him to send him running for the hills – it was guns and fighter jets, physics, math and being _that bit better._ Lexy had everything going for her, and yet none of it was enough.

"Lexy," Sheppard said after several moments of heavy silence, he got to his feet and sauntering around the desk, leaning against the front of it and crossing his ankles in front of him as he folded his arms across his chest "can I ask you something?"

"Fire away boss,"

"Have you thought about going to college?" he felt awkward asking, clumsy like he used to when Teyla sparred with him and he was left feeling out of breath and panting like a dog while she simply looked at him with fond amusement, her eyes sparkling and chest rising and falling rhythmically.

"College?" Lexy repeated, mirth dancing in her eyes "you're kidding right?"

He looked at her.

"My God, you're not kidding," she stared at him for a moment, as if she thought he was about to do something completely insane, "what would I need to go to college for?"

He paused, shrugging "thought it might be something you'd enjoy,"

"The worlds about to end and you want me to go to college?"

Well when she put it like that it sounded stupid, but in his head it had made sense. He remembered college, it had been fun; parties, drinking with the boys, picking up girls and just generally having a laugh. Sure the transition between high school and living on campus was a little difficult but actually being there… he'd thoroughly enjoyed it. It seemed so wrong that no plans could be made either by or for Lexy, because the entire planet was in jeopardy, and choosing courses to enrol on, although a daunting task does not compare. "Seemed like a good idea when I thought about it,"

Lexy shook her head, but smiled a little dolefully at him "tell you what, if the MIT professors make it to the evacuation site I'll see what I can do,"

He nodded smartly, accepting her point. It wasn't so much the idea that was the fundament in this but the concept behind it, he knew she understood that and was, in a way, grateful that no issue had been made of it; something which was consistently a risk. The phone ringing on the desk jerked him out of whatever reverie he had begun sinking in to;

"Sheppard… yeah she's here… no, I'll send her right down Sam,"

"Looks like that's my cue to go," Lexy unfolded leisurely from her seat, unfurling like a cat "is she in the lab?"

Sheppard nodded "seeya later sport," he said, folding one arm around her slim waist when she gave him a quick hug and pecking a friendly kiss to his cheek before leaving the room all together.

* * *

"Hey," Lexy announced her presence in the lab coolly; the visit to the cemetery still fresh in her mind even as she wanted it to fade away; with everything else that was going on it was like pouring salt into old wounds.

"Hey," Carter replied "Rodney's got some calculations he needs you to take a look at,"

Lexy gave her Godmother a look that hovered somewhere between confusion and amusement "I thought you two were geniuses, what you need me for?"

"Brat," Rodney retorted without looking up from his laptop.

"Geek," she returned with equal speed.

Carter shook her head; the good-natured bickering between the two was obscure to say the least; "c'mere," she beckoned the teenager over and pointed at the dry-wipe board "see what you can make of that,"

"What is it?" Lexy took the marker offered to her as her eyes skimmed across the array of numbers and functions scrawled across the white surface.

"It's the calculations for the power flow in Arthur's Mantle," Rodney said, this time peering over to the screen of his computer "Sam thought some fresh eyes might be able to spot something she missed,"

Carter shot him a weary look "something _we_ missed Rodney," she said with fond exasperation.

Lexy gave them both a quizzical look "and you asked me not one of your flunkies because…"

Carter's eyes narrowed a little "their not flunkies Lexy,"

"S'what he calls 'em," she jabbed the marker in Rodney's direction and smirked when Carter rolled her eyes at him.

Lexy studied the board in front of her intensely for several long moments before wiping several numbers away and replacing them "huh," she said.

"'Huh', what?" Rodney asked.

"Huh the power source is shot in that thing and you aren't going to get it back online,"

"We could see if Mckay has any ideas-" Carter started.

"Yes, because any ideas he has will be ones I haven't already come up with," Rodney retorted dryly.

"So what do you suggest then?" Carter threw back, conceding his point as gracefully as one could manage.

"We stop fiddling about with the Mantle and find a different solution-"

"There isn't one. This is our last chance to save this planet or we're out," Lexy jumped in, imploring him because if anyone could fix it, it was Rodney; it wasn't an idea birthed from fantasy, a child's worship of an adult, her believe had foundations, held truth; if Rodney couldn't fix it…

"The device is thousands of years old; it's a miracle it's survived this long, if we start messing with the circuitry in that thing we could lose what precious time we have left protected. I say we pack up and leave as fast as we can. We have months, maybe even weeks before it packs in all together,"

"Atlantis' survived," Lexy started "if-"

"The technology on Atlantis hasn't been pushed beyond reasonable limits. It was a jump to cover the planet, but half the galaxy?" he trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid because the consequences were dire enough without being verbalized.

"So what now then?"

Carter glanced at her Goddaughter and then at Rodney "I'll let Sheppard know,"

* * *

A few clouds smudged an otherwise perfect sky, it was quiet, and the soft twitter of birds could be heard only in the imagination and the heavy whirr of motor engines replacing the gentle whistle of the summer breeze. The black SUV pulled to a precise stop just in front of the mountain's entrance, the sign declaring 'Cheyenne Mountain' flawlessly framed in the windscreen.

The airman rapped on the tinted window with his knuckles and waited for it to roll down, the I.D flashed in his face was enough and he nodded "go ahead sir," he said as the window rolled back up again and the SUV drove on through into the mountain; he reached for his radio "somebody call General Sheppard, tell him General Mitchell is on his way,"


	16. Where Angels Fear to Tread

Chapter 16: Where Angels Fear to Tread

Carolyn ignored the soft buzz of whispers that echoed off the walls as they passed. It was like a guard of honor lining the walls as they hurried down the corridors; she tried her best to avoid looking at those old enough to remember their departure and smiled gently at those who were young enough to jump to attention as the General walked by. There was no official reason for them to be there, and certainly none for her to have followed her partner across half a dozen states, but there was no way she would have let him make the journey alone. Not after everything. Not when she knew what awaited him. Mitchell's polished shoes clipped against the concrete floor with a staccato beat that felt cold and not at all reassuring even as Carolyn followed after him. It felt like going to face a firing squad. It shouldn't. But it did.

"Ma'am," a Captain whose face she did not recall nodded in greeting at both her and Mitchell "I'm to take you to General Sheppard sir," he turned to Mitchell and stood aside to let them enter the elevator.

"Thanks," Mitchell said; his face tight.

The unification of the base was obscure, teams formed friendships which became bonds stronger than family, or that had been the case ten years ago. Things had changed, too much. Lapses in judgment, calls of faith and split-second decisions cost far, far more than they ever used to. He wasn't sure whether to feel exhilarated by the strength the personnel demonstrated or offended by the fact that it was him they were shutting out. He mentally shook his head; they weren't his people anymore, this was purely business, no need to dredge up the past. The irony almost made him laugh. Almost.

* * *

The knock on his office door made him jump and he scrubbed a hand across his face and pointlessly rearranged pens and papers before calling out for whoever it was to enter.

"General?"

"Vala," Sheppard said, surprised, though he wasn't sure why because it wasn't like he hadn't _expected_ the entire team to shirk their guards at the first available opportunity; Vala was just good at it, Cameron and Sam were Air Force trained, Daniel could negotiate peace treaties with Goa'uld System Lords, nobody messed with Teal'c and Mckay? Well Mckay –

"Why's Tomin here?"

He coughed "you're direct," he smirked "I'll give you that,"

She glared at him and if looks could kill Sheppard was pretty sure she could put his ex-wife in the ground.

"It's complicated-"

"For goodness sake!" she exclaimed "when isn't it? _Everything_ is complicated. Why can't you just make it simple for once?"

Sheppard gave her a pinched look, shifting awkwardly in his seat before trying to throw her off by smiling a little "things haven't been simple for a long time Vala,"

"No?" she sniped "how about you give it a go,"

Sheppard paused, looking down and then up again, fixing her with a steady hazel gaze that betrayed far more than he wanted to admit. Protocol was one thing, every so often your conscience lets you get away with flipping your finger at 'the man' but social expectancy did not allow it, that same conscience forces you to hide behind thin veils of fortitude that tells you it's okay to lie, that pretend and fairytale is acceptable every once in a while. "He's not a risk if that's what you're concerned about," he started, then realised that wouldn't be enough "Tomin has proven himself to be a valuable member of the SGC. He's put his life on the line for us-"

"I don't want the official story," Vala sighed in exasperation "I want the truth; surely you can give me that,"

He swallowed, licked his lips and leant back in his chair, hands clasped together in front of him "fine," he said shortly "he saved Lexy's life," there was a heavy pause "he saved my life," Sheppard leant forwards onto the desk "he's saved dozens of lives," the urgency in his voice was coming off him in waves "I can't tell you everything," he sighed "I won't,"

Vala opened her mouth to continue but Sheppard's jaw was set in resolution, his expression stern. The phone ringing caught them both off guard.

"Sheppard," he said, not taking his eyes off of the woman in front of him even as he held the receiver to his ear "bring them down Captain," he hung up "I'm sorry Vala," he said sincerely.

"Yeah," she said, and he couldn't tell whether she was accepting his position or being sarcastic, but either way she turned on her heel and left.

* * *

Teal'c was sat alone in the commissary, raising an eyebrow at the airman who had attempted to escort him back to his designated quarters once he had finished eating. This situation was not one he had found himself in before, and the pressure that was being placed on his friends, and the future incarnations of them was very concerning indeed. Nonetheless, compared to the companionship of his team, the commissary was almost tranquil.

"Teal'c?" the redheaded woman whom they had met when they had first arrived slipped into the seat opposite him, her body language was somewhat perplexing in that she seemed to be hovering somewhere between being comfortable with him and anxious, as if she thought she should be the latter but wasn't sure why the sensation wasn't naturally occurring.

"Ms. Sullivan," he greeted warmly.

She flushed a little "Teal'c," she admonished softly "Dawn,"

The former First Prime blinked at her serenely and she had to look away after a moment.

"I was wondering… if you could do me a favour,"

"That depends on what this 'favour' entails," he said, the beginnings of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth; she supposed she could be imagining it but something told her she wasn't.

Dawn smiled at him; "the other um… you," she struggled for words for a moment "is off-world and isn't gonna be back for a few days and Darryl misses you, I mean him,"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow at her "you wish me to pretend that I am him,"

"Would you?"

"To what end?"

"You don't have to be there for long," she said suddenly "and I wouldn't normally condone lying to him but it's just you're here and-"

He gave her an appraising look. Colonel Carter would probably object and for that he felt guilty for considering the option however he did not see how this could harm the boy, nor his mother. It was not temptation that he felt burning in his chest, controlling whim was something he had learnt many decades ago to the point that impulse was not something he was familiar with. Assess, prioritize and evaluate, that's what he did; what he'd always done. This was aid, he helped people; "How can I be of assistance?"

* * *

"John," Mitchell said, rapping on the door of the General's office with precise efficiency, hat tucked under his elbow.

Sheppard got to his feet "General Mitchell," he said coolly "what brings you into this neck of the woods?"

The Washington General pretended like he had no noticed the animosity in his colleague's voice, the apprehension he did not want to acknowledge existed. He would like to think that his leaving was not one of disgrace, he was not in the best of terms with most of the senior staff here, Carolyn had followed him out of loyalty and after everything he was thankful she had stuck around as long as she had. Starting out as a fresh-faced, wet behind the ears young recruit he had been jaded and warped over the years but the fundamentals of his personality were the same, the bright burning of right and wrong was still there. The hostility was birthed from petulance and something he refused to identify; "I heard we had some visitors,"

Sheppard glanced at Carolyn "Doctor Lam," he said politely "it's nice to see you," then to Mitchell he replied "yes, we do,"

"Look John," Mitchell sighed "do we have to do this?"

Sheppard gave him a pointed look. There was nothing to talk about, they'd never been under the same command, the siege had been the first and last time they'd ever worked together and that year had been one of extreme circumstance and character; "if you think by seeing them you can fix anything-"

"I'm here as a professional General," Mitchell said shortly, cutting off the other man before he could finish his sentence.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to reply but then closing it again, lips pressed together in a thin line before nodding curtly "right," he breathed, picking up a pen and twirling it between his fingers "do you have somewhere to stay? Or shall I have some quarters set up on base?" he looked up, giving Mitchell a measured look.

Slightly taken aback by the brief, aloofness of the other man's comments Mitchell found himself floundering, glancing only briefly at Carolyn before nodding an affirmative at Sheppard "we've got a hotel room," he said "though your hospitality is appreciated," he added, unable to stop the acerbic note to his voice tainting his already somewhat sarcastic remark.

"Feel free to wander the base," Sheppard retorted, his hazel eyes already darkening beyond their normal hue "are either of you hungry? I'll have an airman escort you to the commissary,"

"We're-"

"That would be nice John," Carolyn jumped in with a smile she hoped would defuse the tension.

Sheppard nodded, offering her a minute quirk of his lips that almost passed for a smile before picking up the phone.

* * *

Vala surveyed the commissary with a somewhat scrutinizing eye. The belly of the mountain, and apparently its soldiers; so much had happened in here, confrontations, announcements and idle chatter that meant so much in the long but meant nothing at first. Frivolous words, raucous laughter and whispered arguments which she barely recalled but recalled with a flash as her gaze swept across the familiar room. The sounds were the same, the laughter and roar of talking well-known, the faces were different, and the heady tension of threat was far stronger than in her own time.

People would tell them nothing, or at least nothing or personal importance. It was all clinical, precise, here-are-the-facts with tantalizing hints of something _more_, something beneath the surface that begged to be addressed; a great chasm of darkness that pleaded to be lit once more. She had left 2008, her daughter, the thin film of a life she had managed to create since her meeting Daniel on the Prometheus all those years ago, she'd left everything in the hope of finding something better. It had been too much to hope for. She'd been happy, at least in the interludes between being fired at by angry natives; husband, friends, daughter… she had a family and after being greedy enough to be cajoled into wanting more, tempted into seeing something she had no right to see and it was costing her.

Lexy's fire was bright and the glowing golden embers that surrounded her were bright enough that even she, Vala the stranger, could see them. It didn't take much to take note of the fact that Lexy had the same effect on people as her father, the way everyone looked up when she entered a room, commanded attention even if she didn't want it, respect being dragged out of the most recalcitrant marines; she was his image, blonde-brown hair, bright blue eyes… and the best part about of all of it was that neither of them noticed; ploughing ahead, blind to all but their cause, fighting and pushing until something gave way, giving them an inkling, a second in which they might be able to make the world better. They never did. Never made enough of a difference for anyone to notice, but they tried. They tried and that, above all else, was what mattered.

A roar of laughter reverberated from a far corner of the room; soldiers and scientists alike all gathered at a single table, the head in the centre evident even from afar as the shimmering purple highlights caught the light and the smile on her face took Vala's breath away. She was hers, her beautiful little baby girl, all grown up and marching, full steam ahead into an unwinnable war, but by God was she gorgeous, worth every sleepless night, every change of clothes, every penny spent. It hurt more than she knew how to say that her daughter refused to talk to her, and, in a way, Vala wished she could let it drop but she knew she couldn't if she wanted too. It was selfish she supposed, wanting even more, constantly craving, needing more than she was offered, in every aspect of life, wandering the universe for years, a con in her pocket and a pace to match; she'd had nothing, then she wanted everything, and everything is never, ever enough.

She couldn't do it now though, couldn't walk over and demand her daughter talk to her. Memories rushed forth strong and fast of her own father embarrassing her in front of her friends and she couldn't do it, not to Lexy. If Vala owed Lexy anything it was that.

* * *

The quarters Teal'c found he'd been led to were much similar to the ones he and his team had been supplied with. The décor was a little different, more colorful, more lived in than the others; he found himself wondering if this was where they lived, his future incarnation and the graceful creature that would ultimately become his wife.

"There's an apartment," Dawn said softly, as if reading his thoughts "but it took me two years to convince to you live outside of the mountain so I thought you might be more comfortable here,"

The Jaffa inclined his head smoothly, nodding in gracious acceptance of her courtesy.

"Darryl doesn't mind," the redhead added "we spend almost as much time here as we do at home,"

Teal'c nodded again; "where is he?"

"Just through there," she pointed to another door he hadn't yet noticed.

He followed her finger and stepped through the doorway, felt his large frame fill the small room and then something flew out of him, nearly winding him with the force of it as bands of steel wrapped around his midriff. Ordinarily he would have been on alert for something capable of restraining him in such a manner, some evil he had to protect his friends from, something to fight. Instead, upon looking down, he saw his captor was a small boy. Something familiar filled his chest, familiar but warmer, fresher, reopening old feelings. The same rush of pride he had experienced with Rya'ac but with something else, something he thought he recognized but couldn't name.

"Daddy!" the boy exclaimed.

Teal'c smiled, and knelt.

* * *

Vala almost felt guilty for pouncing on her daughter almost as soon as the girl exited the commissary, almost, but not quite; "we need to talk," she said matter-of-factly.

It sounded like a soap opera, those Earth television shows that Daniel never let on he despised, but the crinkling of his brow and pursed lips as he sighed that sigh that made her stomach perform somersaults gave more away than she thought he knew. However, the one thing she could pick up from those disparagingly unrealistic dramas was that it worked, authority, demand and statements of fact got you where you wanted; got people to listen rather than asking and begging, pleading for them to listen. She was Lexy's mother; she had a _right _to do this. Didn't she?

Lexy rolled her eyes and kept walking "there's nothing to talk about,"

"Lexy!" Vala exclaimed "of _course_ there is,"

The corridor was not empty, and those in it shot uncertain looks at one another, guarded expressions and altered stances gave way to the apprehension haunting their features. This was not something they felt they should bear witness too yet they had no choice but to scurry along, get out of the way as fast as they could.

"Like what _mother_?" Lexy whirled around, eyes flashing.

Vala flinched; an unconscious reaction to a word she found held more hatred than should be possible. Images of Adria, of her sharp tone, her almond eyes that masqueraded as kind and merciful and forgiving; of being _mother_ instead of _mom_.

"It's what you want isn't it? Be all mother and father and good little girl to two people I don't even know,"

"We're your parents Lexy," she was pleading, so much for expressionless fact, the tears burned her eyes and her throat felt tight; she was shaking so hard she had to clench her fists into balls to stop.

"Stop it," the girl answered "stop saying that. You're not my parents,"

Vala opened her mouth to reply but was cut off.

"My parent died when I was nine. You might look like them and sound like them but you are _not _them,"

"We are Lexy," Vala replied desperately "why can't you see that?"

"You say it like it's easy. Like I can just forget the fact that you died and then everything will be fine,"

"I haven't died. Neither of us have. So we're not from this time, we are still your parents, we still love you,"

"Fine," Lexy crossed her arms across her chest, green BDU jacket creasing and hugging her frame in ways that Vala wouldn't have thought possible with a military issue top "what's my favorite color? Where did I go to school? Who taught me how to fly?" the questions were coming hard and fast, no time to stop, to blink and believe for a fraction of a second that this could be possible "what about my favorite movie? Favorite song?"

"That's not fair," her cheeks were slick with tears, creating silvery, shimmering tracks that glistened in the harsh over head lighting; she couldn't remember a time when she'd cried as much as she had over the past few months, how much she felt like doing now.

"No," Lexy answered, voice soft "it's not fair,"

There was silence for a moment and Vala wondered if they'd managed to reach some sort of truce as she whispered; "why can't it be easy," and she wasn't sure to what she was referring but she knew enough to know it was important, and that Lexy would pick up on it, how she did not know, but she would, of that much Vala was sure.

"Because the world doesn't work that way," Lexy said, expressionless, her accent was lilting and casual, the habitual traits of her speech recognizable as those inherited from around her; Sheppard's Californian drawl, Mckay's biting wit, Jack's charm, "it's never as easy as you think it should be," she turned then, walking as fast as she could down the corridor, head held high but studiously avoiding the gazes of those who had overheard and were staring at her with an intrigued sense of empathy she did not want.

She couldn't do this. Atlantis was her sanctuary, her home, she'd come back because Sheppard had all but ordered her to. Under duress she had returned to Earth unprepared for what she would be expected to faith. The wraith she could face, rogue Genii groups and the occasional angry native she could cope with but physical incarnations of two faces who had haunted her every sleeping thought for the past eight years she could not. Surely this was enough; surely she could go home now.

It was too tempting to just surrender to the dream, the unreality that had birthed itself in the mountain complex she had spent the better part of her childhood admiring. She couldn't do it, she _shouldn't_ do it. They would leave and that would be it, she would still be here. Still be Lexy-Claire, the poor little orphan girl who deserved special treatment because her mommy was an alien and her daddy saved the galaxy. She could never be Lexy-Claire, the poor little orphan girl whose world had been torn apart; she would always have to be something more, something better. Be the key, the answer, the solution. Be a weapon, a super-soldier. Be everything she had to prove herself to be because no one else dare try. Take risks because they pissed people off, show off just because she could. Boundaries are erased by pity, and she had, had enough of that bestowed on her to last several lifetimes. She'd played their game long enough; it was time to go home.

* * *

"Uh sir…" the knock on the door to his office was timid and Sheppard looked up.

"Yes?"

"The latest evacuation team just went out,"

Sheppard put his pen down, the words were ordinary, he expected them, the expression on the young lieutenant's face however he did not "what's wrong?" he said, feeling a swell of dread rising in his chest.

"Its Miss Jackson sir," the lieutenant said "she went with them,"

If he had been alone, Sheppard was sure he would have started banging his head against the desk, instead he said "thank you lieutenant Adams," before nodding his dismissal and the young man scarpered.

Of all the stupid, irresponsible, reckless, immature, totally-normal, not entirely unexpected, things to do; hadn't he been telling her, not a few hours ago, that he thought she should do something 'normal', something other kids her age did? Okay, this was scraping the barrel but running for the hills – though he, and Lexy too, preferred 'strategic retreat' - was not entirely unnatural. If he was being honest, he was surprised she'd stuck it out as long as she had. You couldn't just leave Atlantis, it wasn't possible to just abandon that city and for what was left for Lexy on Earth, it was no wonder she had bid a hasty retreat and taken the first ride out.

God he wished he could follow her.


	17. Servitude

Chapter 17: Servitude

"What the bloody hell are ye doing here?" the thick Scottish brogue echoed through the 'gate room, reverberating off the luminescent walls of the Ancient city with a soft twang; the rebuke in his voice made Lexy flinch.

"Good to see you too Doc," she laughed dryly as Teyla blinked once at her, smiled in hello and began guiding the awestruck evacuation team out of the 'gate room, leaving the teenager to face the Scotsman's wrath alone.

"O'course it's good to see ye lass," he swept over to her, "but that's beside the point!"

Lexy rolled her eyes "hey Cass," she called up to the woman on the balcony.

"Just take them through to the infirmary love," Beckett told Teyla "Doctor Keller's got a team waiting,"

The pretty Athosian woman nodded softly, caramel colored hair shimmering when it caught the light as she spoke in quiet undertones to three other Athosians helping the evacuees, relaying Beckett's message even as they had heard it firsthand, probably as a diplomatic way of saying she wasn't going to get involved in the circumstances of Lexy's return no matter what anyone said or did.

"Lexy!" Cassie exclaimed, rushing down "what are you doing here?" the young woman practically flew down the steps, sweeping the teenager into a hug that had her gasping for breath "I thought you weren't going to be back for a couple of weeks,"

Lexy shrugged her friend off, feeling the minutest contempt for Cassie not warning her what she had been going home to, she pointedly ignored Beckett as he stared at her somewhat disapprovingly "couldn't stay away,"

"How's things?" Cassie asked "I mean… Lexy you have to understand-"

Lexy's eyes darkened and her jaw tensed as she winced "could we not talk about that right now?"

"Of course, no, you're right uh-"

"Lexy can ye come with me lass," the question was more of a statement and Lexy had to resist the urge to role her eyes but knew there was no way to avoid the medical review that Beckett would ultimate implement as she had just come through the 'gate.

"Yeah," she replied; not bothering to disguise her annoyance as he led her away.

* * *

"Lexy's gone," Sheppard said, leaning back in his leather chair at the head of the briefing table and rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as he avoided eye contact with any one else in the room.

"She's what?" Rodney exclaimed "where is she?"

"Cool it Mckay," the General all but snapped, firing the astrophysicist a narrow look through tired hazel eyes "she went through with the evacuation team. She's on Atlantis,"

"I thought you ordered her to stay Earth side?"

"I'm not her keeper Rodney," Sheppard drawled "and she's not military,"

"John," Carter said softly, attempting to calm the situation.

What precisely Lexy was, was a question with a myriad of answers. She was neither military nor scientist. Carter and Jack were her legal guardians but she'd spent the best part of six years living in another galaxy with people who had trained and tutored her to levels far beyond that which most teens could dream of. Strictly speaking, if you were going to get pedantic, Sheppard _was_ her commanding officer, but such a prospect not only made his chest tighten but made him conjure up all the reasons why that weren't possible. She didn't have a rank or serial number, she didn't wear dog tags and Sheppard thought her penchant for disobeying orders often put his own to shame so the likelihood of her lasting long as the underdog to somebody less… understanding, was extremely small.

"What're we gonna do about it?" Cam rocked back on his heels, hands jammed deep in his pockets, the cuffs of his long-sleeved black t-shirt pushed up to his elbows.

Sheppard eyed him somewhat discourteously, eyes narrowing marginally as he tried to dissociate the man in front of him with the General who had been in his office not too long ago. It was more difficult than it should be; it was painful but not hard to look at Daniel and Vala, but this was different. Maybe because Cam's counterpart was still alive, and any animosity that existed had not been jaded by the sainthood that comes with death.

"We go after her," Daniel stated.

Carter took a sudden breath "not a good idea,"

"Why not?" Vala exclaimed hotly, "we can't just-"

"You don't chase Lexy," Sheppard said, giving them all a steely look "you just don't,"

Cam laughed "what's she gonna do? Beat ya up?"

Sheppard just looked at the other man, refusing to let any emotion play across his face and eying them all with a sort of exhausted disdain that comes with such a challenging command.

"I say we do it," Cam looked at his team, acknowledging their responses.

Sheppard opened his mouth to speak, agitation dancing in hazel eyes and his fists clenched at his sides. Carter stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm;

"John," she said gently "can I talk to you a minute?"

He nodded sharply, a jerky gesture with his head that Rodney recognized from years of camaraderie.

Carter, Sheppard and Rodney retreated into the General's office and closed the door. Rodney glanced through the window as Sheppard slouched against his desk, the past SG1 conferring between themselves; for a moment the discussion appeared to get quite heated.

"You have to let them go through," Carter said after a moment.

"What?" Rodney exclaimed "are you completely nuts?"

Carter eyed her ex-husband with some scrutiny before looking back at Sheppard "Lexy is their daughter,"

"You were all for keeping them _away_ from her before!"

The blonde tactfully ignores his remark. Yes, she had been determined to keep them separate and if she stood by that decision but the fact that her opinion had been out-voted she had to think about what was next best for the girl involved. No one had said no to Lexy in years, the two guiltiest of that are standing in the room with her now, not that Rodney at the very least would ever admit to the fact. Lexy had both everything and nothing and they really needed to stop enabling her.

"She never grieved John," Carter pointed out "she got as far as angry and she stayed there, we_ let_ her stay there,"

Rodney opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off again.

"When you took her to Atlantis, what happened?"

Rodney didn't want to answer that question; his ex was too good at manipulating people, asking the wrong questions to get the right answers or maybe it was the right questions for the wrong answers. Whatever it was it didn't matter, the fact was she was going to win and there was nothing he could do about it; people were not his forte.

"We don't need to go through this Sam," he answered sourly "the point is, is letting them back her into the corner is not going to help anyone,"

"We don't know that," she retorted just as obstinately; "for all we know this could be precisely what she needs,"

"So what? We just let them waltz in here and push her over the edge?" Rodney's sarcasm was tangible "we can't just let them break her," he glanced imploringly at his former team leader "she's the best weapon we've got,"

Carter looked at them both, eying the two men with a steady gaze that bordered on horrified "when did you stop thinking of her as a child Rodney?" sadness tainted her gaze and made him stop, breath catching in his chest "when did you start thinking of her as a means to an end?"

Rodney gaped, lost for words as her questions hit him like a punch in the gut.

Sheppard kept his head down, half and ear on the conversation but his mind racing; it was a sensitive situation, the irony being he'd faced worse before, ones that required a solution in seconds because a gun was to his head or one of his friends, decisions that would cost lives no matter what was done, it was just a question or how many or who it was that died. People thought the suicide missions were self sacrificial stunts because he felt guilty for everything, nobody seemed to realize that it's more about taking the easier road, making the choice because dying to save lives is easier than living knowing others have died in your failings; the coward's way out, not the hero's.

He straightened up "tell them we dial through to Pegasus is in two hours,"

"What?" Rodney all-but squeaked "you can't be serious!"

Hazel eyes met blue and a moment later Sheppard strode from the room, battle won but the war far from over.

* * *

"You sure you two want to stay here?" Cam said as he zipped up his BDU jacket, jerking a thumb back at Daniel, Vala and Mckay standing at the end of the 'gate ramp.

"I'll be better use here," Sam answered "General Carter and…" she glanced at Mckay "anyway, you keep them out of trouble," she gestured at the end of the ramp with a smile.

"What about you big guy?"

"I would prefer to stay here also," Teal'c inclined his head "perhaps I could be of assistance to the General and Colonel Carter,"

Cam nodded and waved at them casually as he backed up to join the impromptu team prepped to go through the 'gate.

"Good luck," Sheppard said through the intercom, his voice echoing through the embarkation room; "you'll likely need it," he added in a muttered undertone that probably didn't reach the microphone.

The 'gate roared to life with a deafening whoosh before the wormhole stabilized and they began their steady trek up the 'gate ramp.

* * *

"What the bloody hell were ye thinking?" Beckett nigh on bellowed as he bustled about the infirmary bed Lexy was sat on, swinging her legs and drumming her fingers with an abstract boredom that reminded the Scotsman all too well of some of his other, less than cooperative patients over the years he had worked on Atlantis.

Lexy had the good sense to keep quiet, or maybe she was simply ignoring him, he couldn't tell but didn't seem to be paying too much attention to the details of it, too lost in his rant, decorated occasionally with muttered Gaelic curses.

"Ye're supposed ta be on Earth! Not here, and I'll bet my best whiskey you weren't given permission to come through the Stargate!"

"Sheppard put me in charge of evacuation teams," she said nonchalantly as he held her wrist between his fingers and thumb, counting her pulse against his watch; "I have permission to go through the 'gate by default,"

"Sheppard," Beckett whispered "I shoulda known it'd be somethin' to do with John bloody Sheppard,"

"Hey," she snapped, eyes narrowed "this is nothing to do with him. I came back because I wanted to come home, not because he sent me, or because he _didn't_ send me. Besides," she paused, glancing down as he tidied away some of his equipment then back up again "Earth's got visitors," she said, giving him a sardonic smirk that practically mirrored Sheppard's patented 'fuck you sir' smile.

"Ye mean they actually arrived?"

Lexy rolled her eyes and hopped off the bed "you done?"

"No," he said, then off her look "with the tests yes, with ye? Not by a long shot,"

She sighed "look, I get that you're pissed-"

"Horrified's more like it!" he exploded "ye haven't seen ye parents in nearly ten years and-"

She didn't want to hear this. This wasn't why she had come back to Atlantis. This wasn't the reason she had left. They were not her parents, her parents were dead, long gone, and they weren't coming back. Imposters from a different time period were never going to change that. Everyone would be so much better off if people stopped interfering and telling her what she should and should not do in regards to the people that would call themselves Doctor and Mrs. Jackson.

"No," she snapped "no I haven't and those… those people are not them,"

The poor doctor looked like he was about to explode "that's the whole point lass!" he cried, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet "they are, maybe not as ye remember 'em but they are your parents,"

"I'm not talking about this," Lexy turned on her heel and walked out of the infirmary, leaving Beckett gaping after her.

* * *

Chuck had been manning his station in the control room for many years, his familiarity with the controls meant he was one of the foremost 'gate technicians in the expedition and he wouldn't trade his job for anything. He had to make sure people 'gate in and out at the right time, that schedules didn't overlap, know when teams were due back and which planets were liable to mean people were going to come back in hot. All this was why he knew that at this moment, the 'gate should not have dialing up at that moment.

"Unscheduled 'gate activation," he intoned across the intercom, Doctor Cassie Frasier appearing at his elbow in seconds; "it's Earth," he reported, perplexed "we're not due another evacuation team until tomorrow," he said as Cassie indicated for him to lower the shield.

"Oh my God," Cassie breathed, staring at the people who had just stepped through the 'gate with an expression of pure awe on her face.

The entire room had gone quiet, all eyes focused on the group that had just walked through the 'gate. Each looking as uncomfortable as the next as they were heavily scrutinized, the marines standing at the foot of the stairs, weapons raised, gripped in tight hands. Those on security detail unable to take their eyes away off of the team and everyone else to awestruck to do anything else. Knowing something and seeing it in the flesh are two totally different things.

"Doctor Jackson," Cassie finally managed to get out, moving down the steps two at a time "it's… oh," she tailed off, what exactly do you say to someone who's been dead for eight years? "Doctor Mckay," she nodded, recognizing and able to speak to the younger version of a man she knew well, the others… the others it was more difficult.

"Hey Cass," Cam stepped forward, holding out his hand for the young woman to shake.

Cassie looked first at Cam's face then at his hand, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her skin prickle but she let him shake it anyway. She tactfully avoided looking at his face, knowing he was fixing her with an absurd look, not that she could blame him, but by association she was duty bound to feel some sense of ill-ease for the man. Thinking for a moment, she calculated the years carefully before replying "hello Colonel Mitchell,"

Cam frowned, releasing her hand and feeling more than a little uncomfortable by her blatant avoidance of eye contact.

"Can I uh…" she glanced at Vala and swallowed thickly, this was… if this was so difficult for her, no wonder Lexy had run "shouldn't you be… I mean don't you-"

"We're looking for Lexy," Vala said "where is she?"

"Easy," Daniel said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she stepped forward into Cassie's personal space, squaring up to the younger woman with a set expression on her face "Vala," he added, more warning in his tone as he spoke but no less emotion lacing his tone.

"Why don't you come with me?" she said, technically, as protocol suggested, they should all be escorted to the infirmary but with Lexy here, she couldn't just let them wander the halls; Atlantis was a sanctuary for far too many, including the teen, and there was no way she was about to destroy that; she could call Beckett to her office, or better yet, find out where Lexy was and then escort them to the infirmary herself.

* * *

If there was one thing that Ronon was good at, besides the fighting and eating everything in sight and hiding knives in his dreads that is, it was not talking; a virtue for which Lexy felt was a Godsend right now.

She pirouetted on one foot, hair flying and t-shirt clinging to her torso as she slammed the bantos sticks over Ronon's. The slim weapons looked like twigs in his large hands, he parried the blow with an ease Lexy envied and twirled one around his hand before cracking them down on hers, a move she barely dodged before another flew and both of her sticks went flying.

"Better yet?" he grunted, tossing his own sticks to one side as she slipped over to the bench and pulled a bottle of water out, gulping down half the contents before answering.

She smirked at him and his lips quirked upwards as he took position again, bantos rods abandoned.

The punches flew left and right, kicks knocked aside and she tasted blood as she miscalculated a shot and he caught the side of her face. Her cheek burned, jaw aching as tears sprung to her eyes but she didn't stop, she _couldn't_ stop, blow after blow, shot after shot she kept going and the big Satedan scrutinized her carefully. He was glad Teyla was not watching the session as she would, by now, surely have called a cessation to the fight and whilst he knew Lexy was hurt, the fact that she would not let on was a lesson she had to learn. Compartmentalizing pain was one thing, being down right stupid was another; he was gentle, or as gentle as he thought was reasonable yet when she stumbled he did not allow her time to recover, tempering the strength of the fight, even below that which Lorne stated as acceptable for the new recruits even though he knew Lexy was, or at least thought she was, capable of withstanding far more.

She hit the ground with a thud as one blow struck her in the stomach, forcing all the air from her lungs and sending her to the floor. He eyed her carefully, momentarily concerned but the moment passed when she grinned up at him, teeth stained pink and skin flushed with exertion. She was an idiot, but she at least had the balls to follow through.

"You've got the same problem as Sheppard," he said, offering her a hand up which she took; he barely noticed her weight as he lifted her to her feet, he pretended not to notice the way she favored her right side.

"Yeah?" she said, breathing heavily and taking the bottle of water Ronon awkwardly thrust in her direction "what's that?" chest heaving as she hissed in a breath in response to stretching the cut on her lip.

Picking up his towel and throwing her, hers he rumbled' "you don't block properly," and left the room.

Lexy shook her head, laughing, and followed.


	18. What I Didn't Say

Chapter 18: What I Didn't Say

Cassie could feel her heart roaring in her ears; it was deafening. She clenched her fists in a vain attempt to calm the tremors coursing through her body. Knowing that they were on Earth was one thing, having them here, on Atlantis, was something entirely different.

"Just through here," she gestured for the group to enter her office.

"Excuse me, ma'am" a passing airman stopped in the doorway, "Colonel Lorne asked me to inform you that that the Gaea has just arrived,"

"Thank you very much sergeant," Cassie nodded, "I assume they've been given the go ahead to send their people down?"

"Yes ma'am,"

"Then tell Reynolds I'll meet him in the mess hall in an hour. I'm sure he'd like to clean up a little before we debrief,"

"Ma'am," the sergeant nodded his exit.

"Now," Cassie took her seat behind her desk and surveyed the team in front of her carefully, her expression guarded, "what can I do for you?"

"Where's Lexy?" Vala cut straight to the point.

"Ah," Cassie sighed, "of course,"

"Of course? You all knew we were coming, and yet not one of you seems prepared for the fact that we might just have a few questions we need answering!" Vala was stunned by the overall lack of coordination, and more to the point _communication;_ no wonder they were losing.

She had no choice. Cassie tapped her earpiece, "Lexy, can you please report to my office," she disconnected the channel a moment later, "I hope you know what you're doing," she warned.

They didn't. Of course they didn't. But they had to pretend. Had to make believe that they had some sort of grand plan because admitting they were clueless was about as likely as them admitting defeat. It wasn't going to happen. It couldn't happen. They had no choices and the ones they were presented with would forever be the wrong ones. One life for a thousand; a thousand for a million; a country for a continent; a continent for a planet; a planet for a galaxy… it would never end, and they never could make the right choice because there was no right choice to make. They would lose. They always lost. It was simply a question of how much.

Lexy's eyes widened only slightly as she walked into the room, standing as near to the exit as she could without standing in the corridor. She did not speak, did not even deign to look at anyone except for Cassie.

"Thank you," Cassie's tone was sincere but before she could say anything else, her radio clicked to life, "one moment,"

"Doctor Mckay," Lexy said finally, nodding aloofly at the astrophysicist.

Mckay, unsurprisingly, was unable to keep his expression of shock off of his face. Of all the people in this room the teen could have addressed, or rather not addressed, it would never have crossed anyone's mind that it would be him. "Lexy," he cleared his throat.

Lexy smirked at him, the expression as near to playful as any of them had so far seen, "she up to scratch then?"

"Who?"

Lexy rolled her eyes. The gesture seemed familiar to him. No one else dared to speak, let alone move, all momentarily silenced by the exchange, each suspect in their own way as to what it was she was trying to do, "the city," she said, "bet you can't wait to meet up with Zelenka,"

Mckay shrugged, trying to look casual but the stiffness of his posture meant he failed almost entirely. For once, the man had very little idea of how to reply. His apprehension akin to that which he had often felt when trying to converse with Ronon when the Satedan had first joined the expedition; a peculiar combination of stoic determination to prove himself fearless, and the overwhelming urge to hide from any form of social communication at all. His worries about Ronon had been centred around his… well 'savage' tendencies (that and his towering height), with Lexy however, it was different; something in his chest hurt every time he looked at her, a more painful sensation than that which he felt around the infant… compassion maybe; possibly pity; sorrow definitely. He had the nearly irresistible urge to help, to make it all bet ter, but he didn't know how and that powerlessness terrified him more than anything else they had encountered on this trip so far.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to speak when Cassie blanched and got to her feet, "I'll be right there," she said, voice low, as she disconnected the transmission.

The light-heartedness faded from Lexy's face; "what's happened?" she asked.

"Hive ships," the young woman replied, "two of them, heading straight for us,"

Lexy paled also, "I'll get Lorne to radio the Gaea,"

Cassie nodded, "see whether or not any of the personnel has been beamed down yet and tell Reynolds to let me know the moment their ready to go,"

"Of course," Lexy said, excusing herself.

Either one of them could radio the Colonel, but Cassie knew Lexy needed to get out of there, and Cassie was more than inclined to let her, particularly in the light of current circumstances. They had wraith to worry about now, a problem of far more importance in the short term than minor family feuds.

"Woah, woah," Cam interrupted, finally feeling able to speak, "I thought you had ZPMs; can't you just cloak the city and let them be on there way?"

"Okay," he tried again, "at the very least you could shoot them out of the sky – surely this city has enough juice in it now to knock down a couple of Hives,"

Cassie couldn't help but smile, albeit sadly. She could recall almost fondly when it were that simple; "unfortunately for us Colonel, we're not the only ones whose technology has advanced,"

* * *

"You can't seriously be considering letting her go up there!" Daniel exclaimed, almost half-heartedly because the preposterousness of it had him reeling so much it didn't even seem like it could be a genuine possibility, "She's not even seventeen!"

Cassie gave him a heavy look. The Hives were gaining fast, and even if they cloaked the city, they wouldn't have long before they were discovered. One of the science teams had been working on the chair and though they still had weapons and basic controls, the piloting systems were completely offline. It would take hours to get them fixed. "Unfortunately Daniel," she said slowly, "age doesn't count for much in these parts,"

Cam cut across, "and her royal highness' resemblance to a loose canon? What happens if we're under fire and somebody says something she doesn't particularly like? She gonna make the right choice - ?" he glanced at Daniel, hoping to convey a message of apology there. It wasn't that he didn't respect the girl's abilities, and he had to admit he admired the trust her superiors had in her, but in all honesty, her volatile behaviour made even Vala's look tame. He loved the kid to bits but the awe of her fellows seemed part fear; fear of what she might do if she was crossed; fear of what she was capable of… he didn't know, all he knew was he didn't much care for it. She might be the best damn pilot the USAF had ever seen, could be a sharpshooter, she might well carry the Ancient gene and be the key to defeating Adria, but the one thing that everybody in this time seemed to have forgotten was that she was still, to all intents and purposes, a child.

"Cam!" Vala glared at him.

"Look, I'm sorry Vala but seriously, the kid's a mess. When was the last time anybody said no to her?"

Cassie's eyes narrowed, "I don't think you understand-"

"I understand," Cam firmly assured her.

Daniel spoke before anyone else could, "we all understand Cassie," he implored, "I just don't much like the idea of my daughter going out to fight a war,"

"But that's precisely what you came here to do," the young woman glowered at him, "the reason you came was to find out how to utilize her in the war against Adria,"

"That's different," he wasn't sure how, but it was.

"Pegasus has been a warzone since long before Lexy was even born," Cassie stated, "and the Milky Way has been under near-constant fire since the siege. I don't think she even knows how to live in a world where there _isn't_ a battle to be fought." she paused, "it's who she is Daniel, whether you like it or not,"

"Just because she witnessed the siege-" Cam started.

"I didn't just witness it Colonel," Lexy drawled acerbically as she steps back into Cassie's office, the door sliding shut behind her, "I started it," she turned to Cassie, "Lorne is gathering teams, Reynolds says they should be good to go in twenty minutes,"

"Thank you," Cassie said, getting to her feet in a definite gesture of hoping to prevent any further discussion on the matter of a decade old siege for the time being but Vala was having none of it.

"That's ridiculous," Vala scoffed, incredulous, "you were six years old,"

"That's right," Lexy folded her arms, gaze held firm, and her shoulders tensed.

"Then how could you have caused it? You were _six_," Vala repeated.

Daniel half expected Lexy to sigh, she didn't; in fact, she was frighteningly still; "six," she echoed, "not stupid,"

"Look Lexy…" Daniel started, "you shouldn't blame yourself-"

"Really?" her laughter was cruel, "I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you,"

"It couldn't be your fault,"

Lexy gave Daniel a level look, gauging his tone. It was impossible for her to tell who he was trying to assure; her that she couldn't be responsible for something that she inescapably was – the US Government had held no qualms about blaming her, the President, the IOA… they had all held her responsible in one way or another – or himself because the thought of his own flesh and blood causing that level of devastation sickened him more than anything he could have imagined. She didn't care which. She knew the truth. She knew what happened even if they don't. She _remembered_.

"Sorry to disappoint you" she snapped sarcastically, though the effect of her smirk was lessened somewhat by the guilt that flickered beneath the surface of her hollow expression.

"Look," Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose, her hands then falling to her hips, "like it or not guys, she's one of the best trained people out here."

"She goes, I go," Vala stated, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set; it was a compromise, people were always telling her she had to compromise, so here she was, doing exactly that.

"You bet," Daniel agreed, however much he despised the idea, at least if he was there he might be able to do something, to help, to stop her doing something that would end up getting her killed.

"Oh for-!"

"Lexy," Cassie's voice was sharp, "they go,"

Vala's jaw dropped. She had not expected Cassie to agree so easily.

"They can't," Lexy retorted, "what happens if they get killed?"

"We won't," Daniel's tone brooked no room for argument.

"I've heard that before," she snapped in a harsh whisper.

"Well it sounds like a fair deal to me," Cam interjected, "besides; from the sounds of it you could use the extra hands. Count me in,"

"No," Lexy stood firm, looking straight at Cassie, "I'm not being responsible for them again,"

"Hate to break it to you kid, but we're not your responsibility," even though he knew it was wrong, Cam couldn't help the tiny spike of glee that went through him at the righteous anger flickering, unabated, across the teenager's face.

"Out there, you would be,"

"They can make their own choices Lexy," Cassie implored, "and we could use the manpower,"

"No," the girl repeated stubbornly, "they go, you count me out,"

Cam threw his hands up in exasperation, muttering; "here we go again,"

Cassie took a deep breath. She'd be in the infirmary with a migraine before the end of the day at this rate; providing of course, that they lived to see it. "They go Lexy," she gave the girl a stern look, and though her next words were intended for all the occupants of the room, she didn't not tear her gaze away. "Report to the 'gate room in ten minutes,"

* * *

It shouldn't be this hard.

Daniel stood in the doorway to the armoury, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his fresh BDUs; his tac-vest hangs open, unzipped along with his jacket. His heart is in his throat as he tries to think of something to something. Something to convince her that she's making the wrong decision, that she'd be safer staying on Atlantis, that _safe_ was better than _dead_, no matter how addicted to the adrenalin rush she was.

"Forget it," Lexy said, sliding an extra magazine into the pocket of her vest.

"Forget what?" he asked, vying for time, though he did not know what for.

"Trying to get me to stay behind." was her dry reply, "Asking what happened to you. Telling me that I don't know what I'm doing,"

"I've no doubt you have every idea what you're doing." negotiation was easy, he was used to that, far better at parrying verbal blows than physical ones. "That's what's frightening,"

She looked up, frowning, but didn't speak. He took that as permission to continue.

"You shouldn't have to do this," he stepped forward, cautious; the armoury may be spacious enough but backing the girl into a corner seemed about as wise as… well something incredibly _un_wise.

Lexy hesitates for a second, "you're right," she said, "but someone has to," she holstered her sidearm.

"Doesn't have to be you,"

She scoffed, "who then?"

"Someone who'd be making the decision to go out there for the right reasons," he stated, "someone who's not taking every opportunity they can to jump into a more dangerous situation,"

Lexy was fuming, but there were better channels for her temper than entering yet another argument. For starters, there were a couple thousand wraiths over head that needed seeing to. For the moment, nothing else mattered but keeping the city safe; petty family disputes could wait. "Excuse me," she moved for the door.

"Lexy," Daniel blocked her path. "People's lives are at risk here. The _city_ is at risk. Don't go making stupid choices just because you're annoyed with us,"

Lexy's eyes narrowed; "you don't know what you're talking about,"

"I know you're running," he said, heart racing in his ears as he fought the urge to approach her; "and I know you can't stop running. I just don't know why you started in the first place,"

"I would have thought that were obvious." she snapped sardonically, "starting a massacre can do strange things to a person,"

Daniel shook his head, "I don't believe that," he folded his arms, "I don't believe you started anything,"

"Disappointed?" her bitter tone, though brutal, was as transparent as glass; she wasn't angry, she was scared; daring him to say yes because it was easy not to care; daring him to say no because that just might finish her. Better to be seen as damaged goods; as something that can't be fixed. Better to not have anything at all than have everything and watch as it either fell apart or got taken away. Better to be despised than loved and know that one day, no matter how hard you tried, how much you gave that one day you were going to let someone down and that the expression of disillusionment on their face would haunt you every minute of everyday for the rest of your life. He had to be disappointed in her because then she could write it all off and that spark of childish optimism would be extinguished as quickly as it had ignited.

He wasn't going to play that game. He could answer that question, tell her just how proud he was, how honoured he felt but that would probably be more destructive than telling her he despised what she had become. This wasn't the future he had wanted for his daughter, and given the chance, it won't be one she will ever have to see, but she had survived; a long way from perfect, she'd been broken too many times and stuck back together in all the wrong order, but she was still there.

Vala was the sail to his anchor, and those two opposing traits had somehow converged to form an entirely unorthodox combination in the form of Lexy. No matter how challenging an amalgamation that might be, Lexy had handled it with fluid ease, utilizing the conflicting instincts to her own advantage.

Lexy took the opportunity to step past him but she'd barely made a step when Daniel gave her an answer; "I think you want people to believe it was your fault because that way you have an excuse,"

She span on her heel. A whirl of a ponytail and fiery eyes, hands clenched in fists at her sides, nails biting her palms, as she repeated her earlier accusation; "you don't know what you're talking about," her voice was low, dangerous; any other person might have walked away at that point but not Daniel; her lack of self-regard for her own well-being was, after all, an inherited trait.

"So enlighten me," he challenged, he felt sick to his stomach already at having to goad her like this, nothing she could tell him would make it worse; somebody had to make her say something, force her to give up some piece of the puzzle so they could start piecing together everything that had gone wrong in the sixteen years in between.

"A hundred and twelve people died that day!" she exclaimed, angry; angry at him for making her say it, angry at herself for breaking when she knew she shouldn't, but once she'd started she couldn't stop. She had to make him see; make him understand that it wasn't just that she didn't want a father again, but that he shouldn't want her as a daughter. That the little girl she had been when he'd died had grown into a monster, that she'd killed, made mistakes, that people were dead because of her. "Forty-six of them Marines; fifty-three of them Air Force and twelve, _twelve_, of them civilians, all because I was dumb-assed enough to open the 'gate!"

"Lexy…"

Whether he said anything after that she would never know because she went on; he had to understand. Although she was nearly screaming, Lexy's words were so carefully enunciated they were like razors through the air. "You and mom died because I _didn't_ open it! So don't you _dare _tell me what I can and can't do, because I know better than you think the costs of my choices. That decision cost me the rest of my life."


	19. Game, Set & Match

_Disclaimer: Very brief, very vague nod to Stargate: Universe. I lay no claim to it._

_Author's Note: Any Czech here is to the thanks of an online translator. The English translations are at the end of the chapter. _

Chapter 19: Game, Set & Match

Mckay frowned. Even the most redundant mathematician could figure out that those numbers didn't add up. Marines, Air Force, civilians… someone was missing from that list, but who? Who would not fit into those categories?

He might not be the best at covert operations, he was heavy footed and in built wrong in every way when it came to sneaking around, though that was perhaps more out of his own disdain for snooping anyway. Nevertheless, he had the good sense to duck out of the way when Lexy stalked past, leaving Daniel slack-jawed in the doorway to the armoury. The astrophysicist had not intended to listen in, but these things happen, and now, his curiosity was peaked. He thought for a moment about asking Daniel about it, but the expression on the other man's face was evident enough that even Mckay could tell it would not be a good idea. Ordinarily it would be Zelenka he would bounce ideas off of, or Sheppard had the Colonel the misfortune to be loitering in the labs again, Beckett even if the subject were sore enough. None of them were here, or they were, just not the ones he remembered, or knew. Besides, who was to say they would even speak about it. They hadn't been particularly forthcoming about any other information had they?

He noted then, Daniel's tactical vest and sidearm, nodding minutely in case the archaeologist had seen him but the other man ducked back into the armoury without a word. Ordinarily he would be eager to go aboard the Gaea also but the thought of needlessly entering another warzone made him balk. He found he was weary of having so many questions but so few answers. As a scientist, he was used to such circumstances, but at least in scientific problems had solutions; even when under heavy fire, imminent deadlines and in mortal danger, answers could be found. Here there were none, only questions; questions _no one_ wanted to answer, and before he could ask another, he needed some explanations for the ones he already had.

* * *

"All set?" Cassie stood at the shoulder of the 'gate technician, hands clasped firmly in front of her, the group in front of her is small; the Doctor and Mrs. Jackson, Cam and Lexy, and half a dozen of Lorne's men; it's not enough, but it'll be more than they can spare if the Hive ships make it passed the Gaea.

Vala could see she was nervous but the expression on the young woman's face was more perplexing than that… she seemed to be relishing the sensation, enjoying the butterfly feeling in her stomach, the leaden dread filling her muscles. But, the brunette supposed, both through assumption and experience; as nauseating as the churning stomach and leaden muscles can be, when it's the only thing separating you from apathy, the sensation does more to invigorate than incapacitate.

Lexy nodded, "good to go Cass,"

Vala swallowedthe urge to look left, to see her daughter's profile, sharp and clean in the military issue BDUs, the Atlantis patch stuck firmly to her upper arm, wasmost overwhelming. She wouldn't look. She couldn't. Every time she saw the girl, her _baby_, she felt like she was drowning, choking on inexplicable regret, sadness bubbling in her throat. Her first born was a monster, the second couldn't even bear to be in the same room as her, preferring instead to run half way across the universe. A part of her wanted to know what happened, or _happens_, to turn the girl so vehemently against her own family, but she knew how bad an idea that was. The questions may beeating her up inside, but from the few answers they have been able to extricate from these people, Vala was not so sure she wanted to know anymore.

"Gaea, you have a green light," Cassie spoke clearly into the radio, there was a brief crackle of confirmation before the team were engulfed in light and disappeared.

* * *

Zelenka's lab was not much different. A few of the scribbles on the dry-wipe boards are in Czech, but mostly, the boards are covered in the European's familiar scrawl of numerical codes, letters, equations, and ad hoc diagrams. A wave of calm rushed over Mckay, it did not entirely quash the homesickness he had not really realised he was experiencing, but it brushed it back a little ways.

"Můj bože…" the wispy head scientist breathed, eyes widening, "Je to pravda! nikdy jsem tomu nevěřila!"

Mckay nodded, a little awkward in how to address his friend. Aware, once more, how far away from home he was. It was strange really, being light-years away from Earth in Pegasus had rarely concerned him, but here it did. Here he felt out of place, as if he were a speck in a groove of an old record, the needle jumping a little every time it moved over the vinyl. A strange metaphor to be sure, but it fitted nonetheless.

"How are you?" Zelenka asked, "Ms. Fraiser was not certain what era you would be coming from?"

Mckay hesitated for a moment, "Lexy's not quite a year old," he replied; everything seemed to revolve around that child, almost literally, her age was probably a more appropriate gauge than a date at this point. All the significant events that had taken place in this timeline had occurred either as a parallel, or direct result of something that girl had done or become involved in.

"I wager it's strange seeing her this age,"

Mckay nodded, reluctant to speak;

"_A hundred and twelve people died that day!"_

The numbers just didn't add up. Forty-six, fifty-three and twelve made one hundred and eleven, not twelve… alien maybe? But if there had been alien presence during the siege why the bloodbath? Why hadn't they more firepower, more assistance? Why had so many people died? The questions burned on his tongue. His head ached.

"The siege," Mckay started; his voice was clear and untainted by the vague notion that hesitation might be appropriate.

Zelenka paled, "yes," he said, for there was little other response he was comfortable with; he might not have been there, but he had seen the aftermath, witnessed his friends scramble to rebuild their lives, their hopes… their families. He had seen the lights go out in too many eyes over the years; fiery passion fade to brutal determination, methodical procedure to find, to hold out in wait for a defeat as inevitable as death itself.

"How many dead?"

The question was morbid but Zelenka was not fazed; "one hundred and eleven," he paused out of respect, grateful that despite his obvious absence, that Mckay did too, "one hundred and eleven dead,"

"Lexy said it was twelve,"

Something flickered across the Czech's face but it was too quick for Mckay to catch; "she must be mistaken,"

"I doubt it," Mckay said coolly, "she seemed rather clear on everything else,"

Zelenka swallowed, "I'm sure she was mistaken,"

Mckay glared at him.

"Though perhaps," Zelenka took a slow breath, the guilt of lying burning him up already but how could he explain it? What place did he have to break it to the other man that the victim whose name he was so desperate to know was in fact, his own? "you might be better talking to Doctor Beckett yes?" one of the devices on a nearby workbench took to beeping quietly, a small purple light flashing green intermittently, "excuse me," Zelenka moved over to the device, peering through his spectacles and picking up a pair of long tweezers and a screwdriver before engrossing himself, once more, in his work.

Mckay left him to it.

* * *

"Reynolds," Lexy nodded at the General politely.

He smiled minutely, "it's been a while Miss Jackson," his expression is carefully managed, a bizarre combination of detached authority mingles with the occasional flash of anguish that flickers across his face every time his gaze lands on Daniel and Vala.

Lexy pauses for a moment, allowing a comfortable amount of time to pass before she speaks again, "Cassie said you could do with some help,"

Reynolds nodded, frowning a little, "seems the med-screening was a little hurried before we left Earth," he said, "med-bay's half full with flu patients. Some of them might be fit to carry a weapon if it comes to it, but neither myself or the doctor fancy sending any of them out in an F-309," he spoke in such a way that maybe, in other circumstances, he might have expected a brief chuckle in response to his otherwise wry statement.

The girl grinned, tugging her long hair back over her shoulders and tying it, roughly, into a ponytail.

Reynolds smirked and pointed at an airman, "Callaghan, escort Miss Jackson to the hangar bay. Hughes, Montgomery and Peck to the armoury," he gestures at the three marines that had been sent aboard also, "Gafton, Sullivan and Dexter, report to Colonel Eeling,"

"What about us?" Cam stepped forward, the silence he had chosen to adopt since the briefing with Cassie Fraiser was serving only to give him a headache rather than allowing him to view the situations at hand with the acuity he had been hoping to gain from maintaining stoically avoidant.

Reynolds opened his mouth to speak, he looked mildly perplexed, but no doubt, had Lexy given him the opportunity to speak, he would have sounded anything but hesitant.

"They stay with me," Lexy announced.

Vala glanced at Daniel, the two of them sharing a momentary look of caution and uncontrolled delight. It wasn't much; in fact to most it was barely a start, but here, for whatever reason and whatever cause, Lexy had made a voluntary effort to keep their company. Whilst the reason for such a radical change in temperament no doubt had them wary, those four words – _"they stay with me," _– meant more than either parent would have ever thought possible.

"Don't get excited," the girl sneered, her derision accompanied by a mocking that made something in Vala's gut twist but neither belayed the optimism Lexy's possessive tone had sparked, "Cassie left you in my care and I won't have you getting yourselves killed because you touch something you shouldn't," and with that, she turned on her heel to follow Callaghan down the corridor.

The scorn may not have stung, but the irony did.

"Lexy, I think we're more than capable of knowing what we can and can't touch," Cam skipped a step to try and level with the teen but the corridors were too narrow for the movement to have much effect.

"The Gaea is considered advanced even to us," Lexy explained patiently, "this is her maiden voyage,"

Cam was silent. When Vala went to speak, Daniel placed a hand on her arm to quiet her; curious as to how the exchange would follow.

"2008 right?" Lexy enquired; she was unwilling to discuss personal details, and her tone, although patient was crisp and professional; discussions of tactics and ships and warfare were okay. They were practical. Talking about long-dead parents, sieges and mistakes that can be neither undone nor remedied was pointless and therefore, entirely unnecessary.

"Yeah,"

She was quiet for a moment.

"The Daedalus and the Odyssey," Cam supplied, making a presumption on her calculations.

Lexy nodded briefly, "The Daedalus was retired five years ago, the Odyssey was destroyed in a battle with the Ori Ships fives years ago and the USS George Hammond is-" she cut herself off. She cannot tell them about the Destiny, or the disaster at the Icarus Base. No matter how many lives it might save. She can't tell them that they ultimately hope that USS George Hammond will be able to undergo the modifications supplied by alien technological advancements that will allow it to, eventually, catch up with the Destiny and, hopefully, bring those aboard home. Instead she remains quiet for a second, a silent testimony to those lost before she answers in a methodical enough manner that she cannot be scorned for being evasive, "undergoing technical upgrades and repairs,"

Her avoidance does not go undetected but Cam will take what he can. He glances back at Daniel and Vala; the archaeologist nods at him, encouraging him to continue the conversation as best he can.

"The Gaea our only active battlecruiser then?"

Lexy smirks," oh no," she says lightly, "the Chinese have the Zhen and the Jiufeng; the Russians the Gurevich, whilst we have the Gaea, and the Iapetus," she reeled off the list with the peculiar ability to articulate, as Daniel noticed with small surge of subconscious pride, the foreign pronunciations flawlessly, "and of course, the USS George Hammond when it's not grounded,"

"Jackson!"

Lexy's attention was instantly grasped by a tall man with his thick brown hair combed neatly to the side, his military fatigues crisp and his voice sharp.

"Major Barrows," Lexy nodded politely.

"You have guests," the Major cast a disparaging eye over the trio standing at Lexy's heels.

"Observers only," she assured him.

"Contrary to your belief Miss Jackson, the F-309 hangar bay isn't a play area," Barrows' was doing very little to hide his disdain.

Lexy smiled, "good job I'm not here to play then isn't it?"

* * *

"Hey," a young man in a hospital gown was the only person in the infirmary; his chin dusted in stubble and suffering from a rather severe case of bed hair despite, yet at the same time his demeanous screamed 'military'; he grinned.

"Hello," Mckay grunted, "is Doctor Beckett around?"

"In his office," he nodded in the general direction of the room, "making sure I don't leave again," he chuckled under his breath and rolled his eyes.

"Thank you," Mckay nodded back, perplexed by the feeling of familiarity that was creeping into the back of his head; when the soldier leaned across and picked a handheld videogame up from the night stand, he suddenly knew why.

Mckay shook his head, took a breath before going to knock on Beckett's office door.

* * *

"You can fly one of these?" Vala's gaze flickered across the military space-jet, the urge to run her fingers down the flank of the truly magnificent looking piece of machinery was almost overwhelming but Major Barrows had insisted that Callaghan keep his eye on their trio of guests and the young sergeant seemed to be following the instruction to a truly pedantic level so she kept her hands firmly at her sides.

"Yes," Lexy climbed into the cockpit and started flicking switches and checking the screens and lights that lit up in response to her touch.

Vala did not hold the same ethical boundaries as her teammates and as such was less horrified by the the prospect of her daughter knowing how to defend herself, how to fly, at, as far as Earth-standards were concerned, 'such a young age'. These talents did not shock or surprise her unduly, what surprised her for the most part, was not only that she had been permitted to learn, but that she had obviously had to. Knowing how to handle a firearm, or to throw a well-aimed punch was something Vala had, had little choice about learning, and in truth, with Jacek's career choices, it had gotten her out of more than the occasional sticky situation. She supposes, almost idly, that she can only be grateful that Lexy's skills lay predominantly in combat and academics. Better she use her fists or sharp tongue to escape a captor or attacker than to rely on the same defence that had once been her mother's trademark. No doubt Lexy was an attractive young woman, Vala only hoped that her daughter did not realise it enough to utilize it the same way her mother had.

"What're you doing?"

Lexy sighed, trying to disguise her impatience, "running pre-flight checks,"

Vala's eyes widened, "you're not…?"

"Planning on flying today?" Lexy did not take her eyes off the main screen, frowning a little, "if the Hives deploy darts before we can destroy them, yeah, don't have much choice,"

Vala opened her mouth to object again, loudly, but was cut off.

"You're here because Cassie insisted Reynolds would need the manpower," Lexy fixed her mother with a stony glare, "the three of you will stay here, where I know you're not going to get yourself blown up,"

"Woah!" Cam exclaimed, hurrying over, "I'm not staying here. If you need the pilots-"

"My job is to make sure you don't do anything stupid. The chances of you getting yourself killed are exponentially more likely out there in a jet than in here behind the shield,"

"And what about you?" Cam's remark was drowned out by Barrows barking orders across the hangar;

"Callaghan!" the Major snapped, "get them off the flight deck. We need to be ready to go the second Reynolds sends the order,"

"Yes sir," Callaghan said, approaching Cam and Vala, "sir, ma'am…"

"He is not seriously contemplating letting my daughter go out in one of those things?" Vala exclaimed as the sergeant escorted them away, the young man eternally grateful that the duo seemed to be voicing very few protestations.

"Miss Jackson is a very capable pilot," Callaghan responded diplomatically as he escorted them through the door, "you can watch from here," he guided them into a small room with a large window overlooking the hangar bay where Daniel already sat, engrossed by the computer screen in front of a young Corporal who appeared to be attempting to meekly explain the data streaming across the plasma.

"Pretty sure that's not her point sergeant," Cam retorted.

Callaghan chose to not to reply.

_Translations According to Online Translator:_

_Můj bože – My God._

_Je to pravda! nikdy jsem tomu nevěřila! – It's true! I never believed it! _


	20. Pushing Limits

Chapter 20: Pushing Limits

It was rare that he felt old. He _was_ old; it would be naïve to deny it. His knees hurt more than they once had and he tired more easily. His back protested every time he tried to get out of bed; probably why waking stiff-necked but otherwise rested in his chair at his desk was becoming a slowly more regular occurrence. For the most part however, these merely became changes in routine than reminders of getting older. It wasn't that he neglected the necessitates that came with aging; he kept his cholesterol down, checked his blood pressure regularly, did not scold himself if walking from one end of the city to the other took longer than it once had, the usual, but the process was slow and so was his acknowledgement of it. Regardless of these facts, as with anyone over the age of twenty-five, there would always be moments when the notion hit harder than it should, when the words 'oh God, I _am_ getting old,' would cycle around his head and nostalgia would twist in his gut. This was one of those moments. Staring at a sixteen-years-younger Doctor Rodney Mckay; a Rodney Mckay whose blue eyes sparkled rather than wept, whose arrogance wasn't so jaded; a Rodney Mckay who was still so ham-handed when it came to expressing his emotions that he had yet to win over the love of his life. Yes, Carson Beckett definitely felt old.

"Hello Rodney," Beckett said, putting his pen down and smiling, "I've been wondering when you might be dropping by,"

Mckay smiled back a little. A part of him felt calmed by the familiar tones of his friend's Scottish brogue, but, rather than helping as he had hoped, the out-of-place-ness that had been threatening to overwhelm him since arriving just twisted deeper. This wasn't his friend, not quite. He couldn't even accuse the other man of being an imposter because he _was _Carson Beckett; he just wasn't the right one.

Beckett eyed his friend carefully. Something wasn't right, but he knew better than to push; coax the answer maybe but years of his experience had taught him that whilst coddling was not always the best strategy to use when dealing with a hypochondriac, there was a difference between forcing the issue and convincing the other man that divulging his concerns was his own idea. Not, of course, that Rodney Mckay had ever had much of an issue letting other people know of his discomforts.

"Rodney?" he prompted, "is there something you wanted to ask?"

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his old friend, but that he wasn't entirely sure what to say. Looking at Mckay, at Rodney, made something in his chest twist: it _hurt_. Lying was never Beckett's strong point, and he knew it. He couldn't look at the present Mckay without some sort of sympathy in his eyes, how was he supposed to share eye contact with a version that was sixteen years too young to understand why it was there in the first place? Normal Rodney at least understood the grief in his friend's eyes, even if he hated having to see it every time he dared look him in the eye. How was he supposed to look straight at his friend and not warn him?

Mckay paused for a moment, weighing up the question carefully. He probably shouldn't know. But then there were many things he had been told he shouldn't know, or would be better off not knowing, and although generally those things were usually far from pleasant, he was a man who despised ignorance in all its forms. After all, if you remain unaware to the possibility of your own demise, how are you, or rather him, genius that he is, supposed to prevent it from happening?

"I overheard a conversation between Lexy-Claire and Doctor Jackson," he started.

"Oh?" Beckett felt his heart start to beat a little faster, anything involving Lexy and apprehension usually meant trouble in some form or another.

"She said that the day of the siege…"

Beckett held back a grimace, paling_, please, please don't…_

Mckay carried on regardless, "that there were a hundred and twelve people dead,"

"That's true,"

"Forty-six Marines. Fifty-three US Air Force, and twelve civilians,"

Beckett nodded.

Mckay frowned, impatient, "that only makes a hundred and eleven,"

"Perhaps she miscalculated,"

Mckay snorted in derision, "I doubt it,"

The one question he did not want to answer was the one question he should have known Mckay would ask. But he couldn't say anything. He wouldn't. That was a heartbreak no man should suffer, and he refused to inflict it on his friend.

"Maybe she was talking about General Landry,"

"She said dead, not institutionalised," Mckay snapped, and even he knew that was harsh, the sort of comment that would earn a disappointed look from Teyla, a glare from Ronon or a hissed _'Rawdney!' _from Sheppard, but he was desperate, he needed to know. He didn't know why, and he didn't want to know why, but for some reason he needed to make sense of it. Nothing else here made sense. Why a sixteen year-old civilian girl would be allowed on the frontline as Adria's forces methodically slaughtered their way across the universe. Why no one would admit as to what happened to Doctor Jackson and Vala. Why it had ever been allowed to get this far. Those numbers were all he could hold on to. The only thing he could force the issue on without feeling like he was breaking some rule or forging a paradox.

"Lexy has a lot on her mind right now," Beckett said diplomatically, suddenly overcome with the urge to get Mckay to leave. The reason he'd secluded himself to the medical bay was to avoid this line of questioning. He might be one of Rodney's best friends but that didn't give him the right to shatter him. There was nothing to be gained by telling him, so why do it? "She was probably mistaken,"

The look Mckay shot him at that moment was one of his more potent glares.

All it would take was a name. A name would answer his question. But that name would be change everything, and Beckett just couldn't do it.

"Fine," Mckay said shortly, "that's just… fine,"

* * *

Vala caught her husband's arm and pulling him aside. "How can you be letting this happen?" She hissed, gesturing towards the thick, glass, observation window.

"What do you expect me to do?"

"Oh I don't know," Vala's voice was dripping with sarcasm as she folded her arms across her chest, "stop them sending our sixteen-year-old daughter out into a fleet of Wraith darts?"

Daniel sighed. There was nothing he would like more than to have the authority to pull rank over Major Barrows and have Lexy pulled from the hangar, but the point was he didn't have that power. There was nothing he could do but watch and hope and pray that Lexy really was as good as every other soldier out there, better even, because if he didn't, if he let himself envisage the tiny baby he'd spent hours every night rocking, pacing the halls of his home just to get her to fall asleep, then… then…

Vala scowled, huffed loudly and turned away, pointedly stepping out of Daniel's reach when he tried to touch her shoulder.

He hated the way she looked at him. Vala was impulsive, her temper, at times, short, but he would be forever grateful for how hard she seemed to be trying to understand the rejection she was facing, that they were both facing. It could not be easy for her, and he could not, and would not, even attempt to imagine what it must feel like having one daughter turn into a monster and the other seem to despise her very existence. Daniel knew that things had happened, terrible things, both in Lexy's life and directly to her. There was no other explanation. He knew what it was like to be orphaned. To feel all alone in a world filled with people. For a while after the accident at the museum, he too had been angry, but never as much as Lexy seemed to be. When he had been trapped in that virtual reality, forced to relive the moment the exhibit had collapsed, over and over again, he could hardly tear his eyes away from his parents, there had to be a reason, a really good reason, why just being in the same room as hers, made Lexy want to run so much.

"Major," the Captain sat at the monitor caught his superior officer's attention, "Bridge reports two Hive ships have just dropped out of hyperspace,"

* * *

"Mckay!"

The scientist turned as his name was called and eyed the blonde woman who was looking at him with impatience, "yes?"

"Aw, don't tell me you don't recognise me?"

Mckay sighed in frustration. "Lieutenant Cadman,"

"Ah," she cut him off with her familiar merry smile, "Major,"

He waved her off.

Cadman hesitated, "I uh, couldn't help but overhear…" she paused, expecting the ordinarily so vocal astrophysicist to rebuke her for eavesdropping but he didn't, "you're not wrong you know,"

"Of course I'm not wrong," he said curtly.

Cadman sighed, accustomed to his arrogance, too much so if she could not even be bothered to call him on it anymore. "Neither is she,"

Attention grasped, Mckay paused, his expression telling her to continue even if he didn't say it.

"That siege killed a hundred and twelve people, either as it was happening or a direct result shortly after,"

All she was doing was giving him information he already had. It was frustrating. They refused to give all the information yet nobody here seemed to have a problem with hinting and twisting words, providing just enough that their visitors were left begging for more. Being told the beginning of a seemingly futile tale, witnessing the end but nobody would say what happened in the middle.

"That's not the way the numbers add up," Mckay retorted.

She balked. The thought of telling him no longer seemed so easy now she was looking him the eye. "Perhaps we should go to the mess, get some coffee?" she suggested, hoping that maybe the walk there might help clear her head so she could think of just how she was supposed to tell him, because evidently, nobody else was going to. She'd seem him go to Zelenka, watched the European send him away without divulging anything, the same when he had been to seen Beckett. If they, of all people, wouldn't tell him, somebody had to, and maybe that had to be her. Maybe because she wasn't so close she could shoulder the responsibility. She'd dealt with things far more volatile that Rodney Mckay in her time.

"Laura," was all he said, short and abrupt, yet imploring.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together for a moment before she forced herself to look him straight in the eye, "Rodney, the hundred and twelfth victim," she stated, "was your unborn daughter,"

* * *

"F-309's return to the bay," the voice crackled through on the radio, her radio vibrated softly in Lexy's ear with each word, "I repeat, we need to retreat, return to the bay,"

Lexy watched as the scattered jets broke their scrambled formation and began their route back to the docking bay, providing cover fire for one another, and dodging to-and-fro as the darts fired after them. Lexy flexed her fingers against the controls, the screens in front of her flashing data intermittently. The wraith darts weren't leaving, and they weren't going to let the F309s leave either, if anything, the alien craft were regrouping, preparing for another attack.

In a split second decision she gunned the throttle and jerked the small craft up, away from its retreating fellows. She jerked the controls violently sideways as she was forced to spin the ship an entire three-sixty in order to avoid getting hit by the weapon fire of the darts whose pilots had identified her as a threat. The distraction she had attempted to provide was not enough, two of the darts separated from the group, following her, but the rest kept on course. The other F309s weren't going to make it back to the bay if she didn't do something fast. Gently easing the levers back, her ship's ascent became vertical, moving purposefully up and beyond the darts.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered, barely giving the ship chance to level before she rocketed downwards, thumbs pressed firmly onto the weapon controls as she plummeted straight through the centre of the dart formation.

* * *

"Who's that still out there?" Major Barrows barked over the intercom system, his voice echoing around the hangar.

The pilots looked at one another, before one stepped forward, replying through the open channel, "I think its Lexy-Claire sir,"

"What the hell does she think she's doing?" Barrows exclaimed, staring at the screen showing the single rogue jet swooping and diving amongst the darts, he tapped his radio "Jackson!"

Lexy's reply was breathless, "little busy right now sir,"

"Goddamit Jackson, get back here!"

The roar of the F309s engines echoing around the cockpit was the only reply he got.

"Jackson!"

* * *

No sooner had the hangar bay been declared airtight and therefore safe to enter again that Barrows had thrown open the door to the observation room and marching over to the crowd surrounding the last F309 to dock.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" he barked, silencing the whoops and cheers over his subordinates with a look.

Lexy, however, remained unfazed and entirely un-intimidated, "I took them out didn't I?" she said absently as she shook her hair free of her helmet, dropping it into the cockpit of the F309, before grinning broadly when one sergeant dared award her a discreet but proud pat on the back. Her elation, and that of her fellow pilots was almost palpable.

"I gave you a direct order," Barrows snapped sternly.

The half-drunk expression of euphoria on Lexy's face was replaced with one of steely indifference, "and I'm not military."

"When you're flying with my pilots, piloting an F309 from my fleet, you are under my orders. Orders you are damn well expected to follow!"

Cam could not help but stare as Lexy rolled her eyes, sighed and walked straight from the hangar bay and into the corridor, where her team mates seemed disinclined to follow, Barrows however, had no such concern. Lexy's apathy was either brave or stupid and Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell could not for the life of him figure out which.

"You wanna berate me Barrows, you can, but it's not gonna change what I did. It worked. The darts are gone," she spun on her heel, standing too close to the Major but he refused to step back, staring the teenager down, "we won. Now get off your high-horse. Just because I did what I had to do rather than following some stupid order doesn't make me any less of a pilot," she turned again, stalking away down the corridor.

"It makes you a liability," Barrows stated, still on her heels, "dammit Jackson you could have been killed!"

"But I wasn't," she pointed out, arrogantly.

The hard-headed Major took a breath, resolved to attempt a different approach even if arm-twisting was far from his style of leadership. "Lexy," his use of her forename had her almost falter, "you pull another stunt like that and you're off my command,"

That seemed to hit hard as she whirled around, her tone somewhere between hurt indignation and venomous hiss of superiority, "you do that and you lose one of the best damn fighter pilots you've got and you know it,"

However true that statement was, it wasn't worth it. He wouldn't let a solider under his command disobey orders like that, there was no way he was going to let a civilian _child_ get away with it. Even if every one from the President of the United States down to General John Sheppard thought it was permissible. "Your position as an F309 pilot on this ship exists only because General Sheppard personally requested that you fly under my command and even then, that position is conditional on my continued approval." Barrows paused, this was precisely why he and Elise had never wanted kids: he was useless with them. Dealing with children in the workplace was for school teachers and paediatricians, not military officials. "I'm sorry your parents died kid, really I am, but this is a battle-cruiser not a playground for you to practice your kamikaze stunts and show off for my men." his tone hardened further, his eyes narrowing, "you want to take on a whole fleet of wraith darts, you do it on your own time Jackson, not mine," with that, he turned and walked away.

_Author's Note: Reviews aren't compulsory, but are appreciated..._


	21. The Virtue of Ignorance

Chapter 21: The Virtue of Ignorance

Cassie was already half way down the steps by the time the group were beamed back into the city's 'gate room. The tension in the air was abating, slowly, as the frantic typing of technicians slowed, and scientists and soldiers alike milled out of the room, heading off to attend their regular duties.

"Lexy," Cassie started down the steps towards the group, a glance at the visiting team made her tense.

Things were complicated enough as it was, both here and at home, without having to deal with nosy time travellers as well; Cam was pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling his eyes when Lexy simply kept walking and Daniel and Vala looked positively pitiful in the desperation that was emanating from the both of them in waves. Yes, she knew she had to speak to Lexy, again, about her confrontation with Barrows, if only to satisfy the Major for another few weeks until the next time the two met. They would never agree. Barrows was as by-the-book as they came, and Lexy was everything he could not, and would not try to, understand. They were both sensational soldiers, fantastic at their jobs but together... Sheppard placing Lexy's F309 flying privileges in Barrows' hands was probably a carefully thought out decision that both placated those government officials who were less than impressed with the free-run Lexy was given, and allowed the good General to wind Barrows up. The Major's refusal to take any nonsense or disobedience from those under command, alongside Lexy's abstinence and adamant refusal to take orders, successfully terminated any chance the two of them would ever have of forming even the most tenuous of professional relationships before it even began.

"We need to talk," Cassie continued, pausing a few steps from the bottom, and watching Lexy's departing back.

"No we don't," Lexy replied without turning around. Her voice wasn't raised and her tone wasn't tainted with anger or frustration, instead, she sounded merely tired, and as she disappeared down the corridor, Cassie could not find it in herself to follow.

* * *

"I will never understand your people," Vala's voice had taken on that peculiar, half-an-octave, semi-indignant note that it did whenever whatever she was trying to wrap her head around was so far beyond her comprehension, all she felt the urge to do was laugh – or cry – at the hypocrisy of it all.

Daniel frowned, but said nothing yet, knowing his wife well enough that she would soon followed that statement up with a tirade about what exactly it was she did not understand about 'his people'.

"I will admit I have little experience with dealing with the civilians of your planet-" off Daniel's look she raised an eyebrow in a gesture she could have only learnt from Teal'c, "_you_ do not count," she stated firmly, "but I have seen enough television to know that on Earth, sixteen year old girls are not given as much control as Lexy seems too," she flicked her hair from her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, pacing the room as Daniel stood, perfectly still, watching her frantic, impatient gestures with sympathy. "If I so much as _look_ at a spaceship the wrong way I'm scooted from the room. She can just decide she's flying one into the middle of Wraith dart formation with no regard at all for the fact that she could die whilst she does it!"

"Jealous?" Cam's smirk was half-hearted, and at Vala's potent glare and Daniel's disapproving over the rim of his glasses had his attention rapidly consumed once more at his rapidly failing attempt at salvaging the scrunched up ball of paper that was supposed to resemble – but looked nothing like – an origami swan.

"Some things are obviously different here-" Daniel started.

"She won't even look at me Daniel," the brunette woman pleaded.

Daniel opened his mouth to respond but Vala cut him off once more:

"I know that to her we are dead, and that something horrible must have happened, but surely she should be happy to see us, I know for certain, I'd be delighted if my mother were to show up, alive and well,"

He tried not to make note of the fact that that was one of the few tid-bits of information Vala had ever voluntarily offered to him about her family that he didn't have to be concerned about being laced with half-truths.

"Everybody's different," Daniel said, "And she's a lot younger than you are,"

Cam sucked in a hiss of air, "oh Jackson, would have worded _that_ differently," he cringed.

Daniel shot him another glare. "What I _mean_ is," he said, turning back to Vala, "Lexy is not only a teenager, for a start. Not to mention the amount of death she's already had to face. Seeing people you know to be dead is hardly the most natural concept in the universe, Lexy's attitude is actually relatively healthy: she might be angry about it but at least it means she's accepted the fact her parents are dead,"

Vala was quiet for a moment, begrudgingly accepting that there might be some truth behind what he was saying.

"I hate this," she said suddenly, "I really do," she shrugged Daniel off when he reached out to touch her arm.

"Vala…" he tries.

"No, I mean it Daniel," Vala said firmly, blue eyes flashing as anger and hurt warred behind them, swirling together so much it made her voice break a little, "I really hate this. I truly wish you'd never convinced me that this was a good idea,"

The doors slid shut behind her.

Silence reigned for a few moments.

"Look, Jackson," Cam dropped the origami swan and leaned forwards in his seat.

"Mitchell, I'm really not-"

"Maybe you ought to try talking to Lexy,"

Daniel gave him a mild look.

"All everybody keeps telling the kid, is that her parents are back, why don't you, instead of just saying you're her father, actually step up to the plate and _prove_ it to her?"

Nevertheless, however right Cam might be, Daniel barely felt qualified as a parent to a one-year-old, he certainly didn't feel ready to face the trials and tribulations of parenting a teenager. But then, of course, parenthood is certainly not a commitment that allows you to pick and choose the battles you fight, or the situations you may find yourself in. You just have to shrug it off and deal with whatever happens. At least this way, unlike most parents, he knew that no matter what happened, he would have a second chance.

"Thanks," he said, nodding once at the other man.

Cam shrugged, "any time," he said, resuming his paper-folding as Daniel, too, left the room.

* * *

"What do you want?"

The door to what was presumably Lexy's living quarters opened, almost uneasily. Daniel would have been surprised by it, had he not been more struck by the weary desperation in Lexy's voice. In the short time since his arrival in this time, he'd seen her angry, he'd seen her elated, defiant, arrogant, sarcastic, but not once had he seen her show one iota of weakness. She was sixteen years old and seemingly impervious, until now that is. Now she didn't just look tired, she looked exhausted, a bone weary fatigue that filled the room and choked the air. He hadn't seen anyone look so defeated since… since, well _ever_. He had expected, however much it hurt, her to argue, to scream, run even, but not this. He would never have expected this. He would never have even imagined that four words could carry the weight of a lifetime in them. That a girl so young, a child, could look so haunted as she did in that moment.

"Just to talk," he said, more careful than ever because this territory was newer than all the rest. This wasn't Lexy the soldier, or Lexy the scientist. It wasn't Lexy the brat, or Lexy the saint. No, this was Lexy the child, the world-weary little girl that he wants to wrap in cotton wool and never let go.

She said nothing. Plucking a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand as she sat on the bed, pulling her glasses from her nose and wiping the lenses with a meticulous precision with the tissue. The main lights were not on, and so only lamps illuminated the young woman sat, back straight at the head of her bed. Her delicates features sharpened by the dim light.

The room was far from cluttered but it felt lived in. The bed was half made. A few cosmetics and a radio earpiece were scattered across the dresser. An empty glass on the nightstand next to a book by an author he'd never heard of, and was probably still in high school back in his time. A combination of well-thumbed and some slightly more recent photographs were tacked to the wall surrounding the mirror. Her laptop sat closed on her desk, surrounded by a few slips of paper and a handful of pens jammed into a small, hand-crafted, ceramic pot. His daughter's entire life was in this room, painted in those images, filling her computer's hard-drive. A glance could show a glimpse into her habits, her hopes, her nightmares, into her life. Somehow, despite the infamous siege, the loss of her parents, the failing of Arthur's Mantle, and the certain knowledge that someday, very soon, the Earth was going to fall apart, had grown this beautiful, well adjusted, adaptable young woman. For despite all of her flaws, all of her anger and hurt and righteousness, rather than falling apart she had held it together. Found happy moments, even if only fleeting, and captured them for eternity in the lens of a camera and there they were. Her memories, her happy moments, stuck to the wall, creased and torn a little and maybe a little frayed at the edges but they were there and they were beautiful.

Daniel deliberated for a moment before moving towards the bed and taking a seat at its foot. It pained him to see his daughter tense at the proximity. He ought to continue, he knew that, but he realised that for the first time since he had met her, she was still, and quiet and he was entirely transfixed. She replaced her glasses, pushing them back into place with the back of her hand. Still she refused to look up, and he watched as she folded the tissue neatly into a square, apparently just so as to have something to do with her hands. He knew the feeling, a wry smile flitting across his lips as he realised he was fiddling with his watch strap. When she made no effort to either initiate the conversation or instruct him to leave, he felt something akin to hope. Far from comfortable, she did however appear content to let him take the lead. For now at least.

Stilling his hands in his lap, he spoke, "hey," he whispered, knocking her knee lightly with his own to get her intention.

Her flinch was disguised by a jerky, yet somehow fluid movement so she was sat with her back to her pillows, her legs crossed, folding herself into as small a position as she could whilst remaining prepared for flight.

"What're you doing here?" she said slowly, almost as if she were speaking through gritted teeth; the snap falling back into her voice, albeit with less ease than Daniel already found himself to be familiar with

"Just to talk," he repeated, shrugging casually.

Lexy snorted with derision and got to her feet, careful to place the bed between the two of them. Aware that he had twisted in his seat to watch her movements, she dropped the tissue in the wastepaper basket next to the dresser before standing next to it, and tracing an absent pattern with her finger in the word work, "you died when I was nine," she looked at him from under lowered lids, "what the hell is there to talk about?" she sounded more tired than angry.

"Lexy…" Daniel was torn between getting to her feet and hugging her or leaving the room entirely. It seemed like such a good idea to come in here, to demand answers, but now he just felt guilty, taking advantage of her at a weak moment, trying to coerce information out of her that he knew he shouldn't have. He'd started now, and Vala would never forgive him if he left before he finished. More to the point, he's not even sure he'd forgive himself no matter what he did by this point; he might as well see it through.

She folded her arms, the movement causing the frames of her glasses to catch the light for a second, "you know about the siege," she said, her tone twisted between guilt and accusation, "that I killed all those people,"

"You were six years old Lexy," his reply was soft, "it couldn't possibly be your fault,"

She flinched, but had he not been studying her so avidly he would not have noticed, "your death was my fault too you know," she was daring him to argue, and the normalcy of that made him want to smile. He refrained, "I was responsible for the deaths of over a hundred and twenty people before I even hit puberty. Is that what you want to talk about? That you precious little baby is going to grow up to-"

"Lexy!" he cut her off.

She glowered at him. Pausing for a moment, "it was my birthday," she began, emotionlessly, as if she'd recited this a thousand times in her head, that by detaching herself the story would be easier to tell, and then he would leave like she knew he would. The hassling would stop, the hushed whispers and wary looks would start all over again but at least then they would stop trying to pretend they were her family when they _weren't_ because her family either fell apart or walked away. "I'd been begging you for weeks to let me go through the Stargate. You finally caved two weeks before we went through," she paused, and thought he thought she might have choked, he would never know, blinking hard once, she carried on, determined to finish, "when we got there, Adria was waiting for us. She killed our escort… barely lifted a finger."

Every word she spoke was like an accusation in itself. A dare, and the less it looked like he was going to walk out, the more infuriated she seemed to get.

"You and mom tried to protect me; you tried to stop her," her voice wavered a little, cracking mid-sentence and she paused a moment to take a few deep breaths. Her arms fell to her sides as she paced for a moment, "mom told me to dial home. To get back to Earth," she stopped by the window, staring at it but not really looking out; it was too dark anyway, "I should have done, maybe we'd of all go out if I had," she shrugged, "but I didn't, I waited, and Adria took us up to her ship,"

Daniel went to get to his feet.

"Don't get up," she said quickly, without turning around, "just… don't,"

He sat back down.

"It took four days," she spoke, and for a moment something akin to pride flickered through her eyes but he couldn't be sure. She turned to look at him, her jaw tight as she held her chin high and narrowed her eyes, challenging him, "now you tell me that there's something to talk about,"

"Lexy… I…" he hesitated, a little shell-shocked, then sincerely and slowly he concluded: "I'm sorry,"

She gave a hollow laugh. "I had to tell the entire Command that I'd watched you both die. I had to tell them there was nothing to bury, and I had to watch them bury empty caskets, beneath these _stupid_ pieces of stone that were supposed to symbolise…" she spat furiously, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts, "supposed to symbolise a testament to your lives, when all it was, was a lie," she blinked harshly and turned her back on him again "a stupid lie,"

"I'm sorry," Daniel said again, unsure of how else to react. She was talking about _his death, _what was he _supposed _to say? It was a little difficult to even believe it, not because it sounded like a lie, but because he was here and he was real and he was breathing and it was so very difficult to comprehend that to Lexy, he'd been dead for nearly eight years.

She whirled around again, a habit he noticed, though he doubted it was a conscious effort to appear dramatic, taking two steps closer before she realised what she was approaching and stopped. Her eyes were bright and wild. "I listened to every single person I met say that for _months_ after you died. It didn't make a difference coming from them, what on Earth makes you think it's going to do anything if _you_ say it? You're dead! _Nothing _you say matters!"

She choked, a strange sound erupting from her throat, but that didn't stop him. The girl was so consumed by her tears and her fruitless attempts to stop them that she didn't notice Daniel had stood until his arms were around her, enveloping her in an embrace that was filled with as much familiar comfort as it was cruel torment. She pushed at his chest for a moment, trying to get free of him, but she soon stopped and he knew that had she really meant it, then she most probably would have succeeded.

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on her had, heart hammering in his chest as her arms slowly unwound from around herself and clutched desperately at the back of his shirt. Squeezing him so tightly it almost hurt. It was a peculiar sensation. The Lexy he knew smelt of baby powder and could sit on one of his knees. Her tears came with screams, and dissipated within moments of beginning. Her arms could barely reach around his neck. This Lexy smelt like watermelons and cinnamon. Her head rested against his chest at a level similar to her mother's and her tears, her tears were truly heartbreaking in their intensity. Each sob that caught in her chest felt like a punch to his gut and the tighter she held onto him, the firmer his embrace became. As if he thought that if he held on to her long enough he could take it all away, that somehow, it might fix something.

She cried for a long time, and neither of them knew when exactly she stopped, but as he was not eager to let her go, she did not appear to be in a hurry to be released. Relishing, for the first time in eight years, being held by someone who spoke like, acted like, and to all intents and purposes _was _the father she had watched tortured and murdered at her feet. The moment soon came however, when she knew she had to end the embrace, her skin crawling with how exposed she now felt. Pulling away, she refused to look at him as she went and sat back on her bed, taking the time to regroup and rebuild at least something resembling her dignity before she would permit herself to speak.

Daniel paused a moment before following her example, a comfortable distance between them but still too much, as she unconsciously pressed herself into the headboard. Nevertheless, Daniel remained reluctant to admit that somehow, now sitting in something akin to companionable silence, discussing his and Vala's death had provoked some sort of truce. He was more than overjoyed by the breakthrough, the methods it took to get there, however, made him feel sick to his stomach.

The silence stretched on and despite its relative ease, Daniel was eager to break it, "Lexy," he said, the fingers of his right hand splayed out on the duvet between them, playing with a lose piece of thread. There were so many things he wanted to say to her - _I love you_. _You're amazing. It wasn't your fault. – _but he knew she would never accept them. Instead he caught her eye, pulled his hands back to his lap and said candidly, and without so much as quirking his lips: "I'm proud of you,"

Her smile, however involuntary it might have been, lit up her whole face.

_Author's Note: Reviews are hugely appreciated, even if only a word or two, just to say there's still people wanting to see this through :)._


	22. Below the Waterline

Chapter 22: Below the Waterline

Rodney Mckay might be abrasive, crass, rude, selfish and cowardly – he had after all, grown up hearing these observations and the older he got the more colourful the embellishments his tormenters had added - but even if he didn't demonstrate it all that often, he _was_ capable of sympathy. He'd shown it a number of times since joining the Atlantis expedition. Although his primary (only) reason for joining the expedition had been from a purely theoretical, mathematical and scientific perspective, he would have to begrudgingly admit, if only to himself, that his time with both the original Stargate Program, and the Pegasus Galaxy extension of it had taught him probably equal amounts about himself than it had about the universe as a whole. He had, after all, stepped through the Stargate hadn't he? Knowing that he might not only never return home, not that there had been a great deal to keep him there at that point, that he might even _die_ the second he stepped through the 'gate, but then of course, 'gate travel just disorientated you, if he died he wouldn't have even felt it. Nevertheless, that was what he felt at that precise moment, sympathy.

It was too difficult to comprehend the fact that, in theory, he had lost a daughter, because that's all she was to him, a theory. She hadn't been conceived, was barely, to coin an overused, and far too simple phrase, 'an apple in his eye'. But nonetheless he could sympathise with his counterpart, with Sam's older self. In the same way that he would sympathise if it had been Teyla, or Elizabeth that had miscarried. At seven and a half months pregnant Sam would have had no choice but to give birth to an, outwardly, fully formed – and if she looked anything like her mother, very attractive – baby girl. The child might not have been fully developed internally, but that won't have mattered because she would never have needed her too-small lungs to scream out her first breath. Sam would have had to have gone through an induced labour, knowing that the baby she was about to give birth to would have to be buried immediately after.

Even Rodney Mckay was human enough to realise just how agonising that would be. How no mother, no father, should ever have to experience losing a child that way, let alone any way at all. No. There is absolutely no way he can think of it, of her, of Isobel, as his unborn, still-born daughter. She was somebody else's, a baby from another lifetime, another self. He and Sam weren't married, they hadn't slept together. To, Isobel had never existed, and now, she might never have the chance to, so how could he grieve for her? No, he could be appropriately sorry on the behalf of the baby's parents, but he was not personally attached to the infant, she would not – could not – mourn her.

Mckay was jerked from his reverie by the harsh cry of sirens, as familiar alarms road, abruptly through the air.

Cadman tapped her earpiece as the radio crackled to life, eying her companion with a veiled compassion that Mckay had only ever seen the blonde Lieutenant – _Major – _muster. The sort that expresses concern without pandering or over-sympathising, it's a look that expresses both concern and a stern instruction to 'buck up'. On anyone else it might appear as if too personalities were warring, the marine, and the woman, but in Cadman it looked only natural, as if the two personas were one in the same.

"You okay Doc?" Cadman asked as she got to her feet a moment later, after an abrupt _'yes ma'am, I'll be right there'_, she touched his shoulder with a comfortable ease that Mckay was sure must have been intended for the Rodney Mckay she seemed to know so well.

Mckay nodded. He did not feel exposed under her gaze, as he might have done under anyone else's, even gone so far as to blame them for his desire to gain knowledge he wasn't so sure he wanted anymore. It didn't change anything, or maybe it did, he didn't know, or more importantly, he didn't _want _to know. He had no regrets for asking Cadman about the unaccounted victim, and perhaps unusually, he didn't really blame anyone for piquing his intrigue. He had, after all, only been curious, like any real scientist. Curiosity may have killed the cat, and no matter how intelligent they might be, he was resolute in his belief, that he had considerably more intelligence, if not self-preservation skills, than a feline.

He nodded, "yes, of course," he assured her with a tight smile that might have scared her but she didn't even flinch "what's going on?"

* * *

"What's going on?" Cassie turned to the screen behind the 'gate technicians, the red lights and warning alarms flashing all around the room as she waited for the screen to read something other than blank.

"Just a moment," Zelenka tapped several of the keys on a nearby computer keyboard, bringing up a schematic for the city, "oh dear," he triangulated again, configuring the images until the small area in the bottom of the screen enlarged, the quadrant the screen now displayed covered in a thin red haze.

"Radek?" Cassie touched the screen herself, the image expanding further, flashing a bright and angry red, "what does that mean?"

Zelenka blinked, gathering a laptop and a series of connecting cables into his arms, "that quadrant of the city hasn't been checked yet. Most of it is still underwater – there has been a breach,"

"Who?" Cassie asked, following him as he hurried towards a transporter.

"I do not know," Zelenka shook his head, "but the city is showing two life signs down there,"

As the transport doors closed, Cassie felt her stomach drop.

* * *

"Hush now," Teyla spoke softly, placing her hand against the door, knowing it did nothing, but perhaps the children would be able to sense that she was nearby, that they would be able to feel her presence and take comfort in the fact that they were not alone, "do not panic. Help will be here soon,"

"Teyla!" Cassie skipped a step as she and Zelenka approached, "do we know who's in there,"

The Athosian woman nodded, her voice clear and sharp, but as always, un-raised and calm in the face of crisis, "Tenaera and Reede are trapped behind the door," an expression of sincere concern was set deep in her eyes, "the room is filling with water,"

"Not anymore," a young, dark-haired soldier said as he tapped away at the computer tablet he had at his disposal, "I've closed the external vents, should buy us some time at least,"

"Very good Lieutenant Dobson," Cassie commended him, "how much?"

Dobson shrugged, "I'm afraid I don't know ma'am. Until the pressure builds enough to slam them at a guess," he turned to Zelenka, "I've tried opening the door but it won't respond,"

Cassie took it upon herself to approach the door panel, waving her hand in front of it but the crystals behind the panel did not even emit so much as a faint flicker let alone glow, "isn't responding to my gene either," she said, "have we tried a natural carrier?"

Dobson shook his head, "tried radioing Lexy but she isn't responding,"

"Try again," Cassie ordered, "then try Beckett or Doctor Marshall,"

Dobson nodded, and tapped his earpiece, "Lexy?"

* * *

The atmosphere in Lexy's room had progressed from comfortable silence to awkward small talk. So much so that Lexy was sure she had never been happier to hear the city alarms blare down the halls, slicing through the air like one of Ronon's knives.

"Excuse me," Lexy got to her feet, "I think I should go check that out,"

Daniel thought about following, the alarms clearly setting him on edge, eager, from years of knowing what klaxons like that usually meant, to do something to help, "maybe I could-"

"No," the teenager cut him off, she still felt raw, and until now there had not been a reasonable excuse for getting away from him. Of course, prior to that conversation she would have had absolutely no problem with telling him to leave, or indeed walking out of her own accord, but there was certainly something about sobbing into somebody's chest that brought about a certain rapport that should not, or rather could not, be broken without considerable ill-feeling.

"Lexy…"

Something inside her twisted, his expression, that half-coax, half-warning she wasn't even aware she remembered… no, he might look and sound and feel exactly like her father, and yeah, okay, maybe he sort of was in a way, but she couldn't get attached, couldn't let him coerce her into doing as he wanted like that. She might be good at running, enjoy it even, but that certainly didn't mean she enjoyed being _chased_. Telling him didn't mean she forgave him for time-travelling his way back into her life, or that she forgave herself for hesitating when she should have just dialled the stupid 'gate, but what it did mean was that hopefully it would put some distance between them. He would surely tell Vala what he knew, Lexy hadn't warned him not to, and to be frank, she didn't care in the slightest what Vala knew or was told. That was nothing to do with Lexy, and Lexy definitely didn't want it to be.

"Look, why don't you make sure Cam and Vala are okay?" she suggested, her stomach lurching at the idea, even as her expression was entirely unreadable.

Daniel hesitated. Perhaps he ought to say something but he wasn't sure what. Yes, so he was her father, but that position was not the same as the one he was accustomed to. He was proud of her, unbelievably so, even more so to be able to claim, without hesitation, that she was his daughter. But she had spent so long without parents, forged her own life, her own, strange, extended little family, Carter, Jack, Rodney, Sheppard, Cassie… that however sad it may make him, it wasn't really his place to try and tell her what he thought she should do, it hadn't been for a long time. He nodded, reluctantly, settling for a generic, but meaningful, "be careful?" with a pointed quirk of his eyebrows.

Lexy gave a brief, jerky, inclination of her head that might have been a nod of assent, or more likely a cocky 'yeah right'. He couldn't tell, and it wasn't his place to try.

* * *

"What's taking so long?" Cassie demanded, running her hands through her hair as she watched Dobson hunch over his computer in much the same way Zelenka was over the door panel.

It wasn't Dobson's fault that the mechanism was uncooperative, or Zelenka's, but the children's pitiful wails for help over the radio, the smudges of pixels on the laptop screen that were supposed to be their faces jumped and jerked and splashed all over the screen.

"I'm not a miracle worker," Dobson hissed under his breath, Ms. Fraiser may not be military personnel, but unfortunately, when living on a civilian run expedition, he had no choice but to treat her as such, particularly when his CO demanded as such. He strategically avoided looking at Major Lorne, well aware that if he did, he would be unable to claim ignorance as to his comment, not, of course, that 'did I really say that out loud?' is a plausible excuse as a soldier, but he was willing to give it a try.

"Just get the damn doors open," Cassie snapped, "fast," _where the hell was Lexy?_

Dobson took a deep breath, grit his teeth and entered a new code, "voila," he said, a pleased looking smile on his face before the city schematic in the corner flashed red, the children screamed and the expression faded, "oh _fuck_,"

"What is it? What's happened?" Cassie demanded, her eyes wide as she tried to make sense of his calculations and the readings flickering across the computer screen.

Dobson paused, "I may," he said, tapping frantically at the keys, "or may not have accidently re-opened the external venting..."

"So close it!"

"I'm trying!" Dobson replied, " it's not working!"

"What does that mean?" Teyla moved away from the microphone of the radio that was projecting her voice into the room where the two children were trapped, if the situation had deteriorated then they need not hear it: panicking would only make the situation worse.

Cassie looked at the screen and went pale, "it means that the room is filling with water," she said, her eyes meeting the Athosian woman's, "fast,"

Before anyone could respond, there was a sound at the far end of the corridor as the transporter doors opened. They had scarcely opened half-way when Lexy was already jogging down the hall, heading straight for the group gathered by the door.

"Cassie?" she called out, "what's happening?"

"Tenaera and Reede-"

"What?" she rushed over to the laptop screens, knocking Dobson's shoulder as she leaned in close.

The two Athosian children, neither older than eleven years of age splashing around in water rising at a steady pace around them. She knew those children, she'd shown them the video games Sheppard would send her, held them as infants, and minded them whilst their parents went hunting on the mainland. Yet here they were, small and frightened, shivering and soaked to the skin as the pleaded for rescue.

"You can't just open the door," Lexy stated, both out of warning and realisation, not that she hadn't already tried commanding the city to obey, but the cautionary flickering of the lights warned how precarious the power-flow already was to the area. There was a reason they hadn't check this area of the city yet and it frustrated her to no end that Tenaera and Reede had thought it wise to venture down here alone. For now that did not matter, only getting them out did, scolding them for their stupidity could most certainly wait.

"Yes I know _that_," Dobson snapped, pushing her aside again, "the water has risen too high, if I can't find a way to drain it we risk flooding the rest of this level,"

Lexy glowered at him, but said nothing, "what about sending a puddle jumper down?"

Cassie opened her mouth to okay it… why hadn't she thought of that?

Zelenka shook his head "there is no room for it," he reported, "Even if we had a ship to spare, we could not get a puddle jumper close enough,"

Lexy watched the exchange with anxiety tumbling through her gut. There had to be something they could do, surely.

"Oh for…" Dobson trailed off as he resumed tapping frantically at the keys on his computer tablet, keeping half an eye on Zelenka as the senior scientist pulled wires, swapped crystals and keyed algorithms into his own computer before tugging his fingers through his hair in frustration, adjusted his glasses and began the cycle all over again.

If there was one thing Lexy could see, it was that they weren't going to make it in time. The water was rising to fast; the piercing screams of absolute terror had dimmed slightly, but only because Dobson had, had no choice but to turn the volume on the speakers down enough so they could hear themselves think. It might have seemed callous if she could not understand why he had, had to do it. Lexy took one glance at the laptop screen showing the camera feed into the room, Tenaera and Reede wide-eyed and panic stricken as they scrambled up onto a set of crates in the corner, near the ceiling, the water already lapping at the edges of the boxes. There wasn't enough time to wait.

"Keep at the door," she instructed, backing away from the group.

"She says it like I plan on stopping," Dobson muttered to himself, but loud enough that everyone else could here his distaste at the girl's assumed authority: what annoyed him was not necessarily that she tried to pull rank over him, but that she was _allowed_ to.

"Wait!" Cassie called after Lexy, "where are you going?

"Don't worry about me," she shouted back, before turning and taking off at a run, rushing down the corridor, the city opening the doors long before she reached them, until finally, she was out in open air.

Without stopping for a second she raced towards the edge of the pier, and jumped.

_Author's Note: Puddle-Jumper shortage will be addressed in the next chapter. Reviews aren't compulsory, but they are still much appreciated…_


	23. Sacrifices

Chapter 23: Sacrifices

Lexy's boots had felt like lead weights as she plummeted, headfirst towards the water, arms outstretched over her head in an elegant arc, before she slammed into the icy depths beneath the pier. Her grace stolen the moment she broke the water, the impact slowing but not stopping her descent. Then the pain came, like knives, as if thousands of tiny, razor sharp blades were cutting and slicing through her skin, salt biting at her fingertips and burning her eyes. If she had been able, she might have been tempted to scream but instead, her body merely howled silently in protest at the brutal offence to her senses. It might have been wise, perhaps, to have had some sort of plan before leaping, headfirst off the pier, but there had been – and still wasn't – time to come up with one.

She opened her eyes, ignoring the stinging pressure the salty water brought to her retinas, but there was little point: there was nothing to see but black, vague shadows that might or might not be a part of her imagination were the only guidance she had as she swam deeper, veering right, back towards the direction she had jumped from, before she lost all sense of direction in the oblique nothingness that surrounded her and she would have no reference point to work from. She hated water, as in _really_ hated it. Hated that it stole every sense, that she could not see nor hear, nor barely move, hated that even touch seemed out of place; she despised the peculiar feeling of being both weightless and weight_ed_ at the same time, and more than anything, the _oppression_. Surrounded, cocooned by an invisible spectre that appeared so tranquil yet could kill with just a breath. More than anything, she hated how abominably _passive_ it was. Certainly it had the ability to appear ferocious, with roaring waves, and thunderous claps as it rolled and folded in onto itself, but by itself it was relatively harmless, its power lay with its opponent's ignorance: take a breath and drown.

The burning in her lungs became an ache, so when her outstretched fingers came in contact with the sheer metal that could only be a wall of the Atlantean city she nearly sighed with relief. Using both hands she traced along the side until it stopped, signifying an opening. A dim, blue-ish light could be seen, struggling against the darkness. With nothing else to aim for and the pressure in her chest only getting heavier she forced her leaden muscles to cooperate and swam.

* * *

It wasn't ethereal, Vala's beauty, not other-worldly. His heart did not sing when he saw her, nor did it race when she was too far away. No, her appeal was something else entirely, something he could not pinpoint, and was perfectly content not to try to. Looking at her was like standing in the eye of a storm: the rest of the world, the universe, warring all around, colours meshing together, rain swarming and swirling, crushing winds roaring like wild lions overhead. Yet there she was, still but always moving, literal and ironic, selfish and selfless. Being with her made absolutely no sense and yet, that's where the logic stopped because they were _so_ different, _so_ opposite that, that was all that mattered. Vala would forever be a contradiction, to herself, to the universe, to _him_. He loved the way she could change the entire atmosphere of a room with just a smile, how tactile she was, how adventurous. To an outsider, the constant flirting and touching and standing too close to anyone she spoke to, might appear entirely inappropriate but it wasn't. For anyone else, yes, but for her it was ordinary. It was just her way: everyone charms in different ways, some with a look, a smile, a witty retort, with her, it was with a touch. In an entirely innocent, no-ulterior-motive sort of way, he enjoyed watching these interactions because at the end of it all she came back to him, never took anything too far, never hid the ring on her finger, never disguised her motives, at least not sexually. She was a con-artist, reformed she may be, but that did not mean that her ability to adapt was ever forgotten, her skills at coercion, or manipulating half truths for her – _their – _advantage. They do say, after all, that the best lies are based in truths.

Then there was Lexy. The girl may have mirrored his physical appearance but her personality gave little doubt as to who her mother was. The stubbornness, the strength, the bitter-sweet smiles: every time he looked at the teen he was nearly overwhelmed with a cruel combination of awe and a painful reminder that whichever way you looked at it, he'd failed: as a father, a husband, a _protector_. He had died so many times, far more than should, by the laws of both physics and biology, ever be possible, but he'd always found a way back. Yet the one time he needed to the most, the one time that coming back mattered, he hadn't.

He knew how it felt to lose both parents. He knew how big the world suddenly became, how utterly powerless it felt to know that no matter what, someone else always knew better, only no one was around anymore to stand up for you, to _listen_. Every moment of every day comes the reminder that you're alone, an accessory; the extra piece to already completed puzzles. He had retreated into books, into study, education to survive, because books never left, history never politely (or not) asked you to pack your things and get out. Archaeology was always there and it was never going to change, no matter whose home he lived in: each bed merely a stepping stone to this, to the Stargate Program.

Lexy, it appeared, had taken the opposite route. She'd fought every step of the way, she was _still _fighting it. The world didn't just give you what you wanted you had to take it, if you didn't it would just keep picking, plucking opportunities, moments, _people_, out of your life until there was nothing else to steal, nothing left to break but you. Lexy, as a mere little girl, had seen that, and rather than surrendering, she'd stamped her feet and said _no_. No more taking, no more stealing, no more breaking what was already broken. She was going to fight back, and even if she didn't win, even if she ended up on her knees, broken and bloody, at least she could say she tried, that she'd never suffered herself the indignity of begging.

How was he supposed to tell Vala that? How was he supposed to tell her that their little girl, their tiny, barely-walking, still spluttering misshapen words and mashing banana into everything she lay her pudgy little hands on, daughter had every reason to be as angry as she was? That it wasn't a phase, or a teenage tantrum, but a defense mechanism that had she had every right in the universe to possess. That she blamed herself, quite genuinely and quite entirely, for the deaths not only of those slain in the siege, but for those of her parents as well? Saw accusation in every look she received, because she' was responsible for the death of a daughter, a mother, a son, of a father, a brother, a sister or a cousin. Lexy was sixteen and carrying the weight of a war on her shoulders, a metaphorical list of the dead in her back pocket.

* * *

By the time she breached the water's surface, her chest and throat were on fire, her head pounding, blood roaring her ears. She gasped for breath, treading water and shivering as the musty air of the tunnel felt far cooler than the ocean, goose bumps prickling her skin: she is certain, were they not so wet, that the hairs on the backs of her arms would be on end.

Dimly, she could hear the muffled shrieks of the trapped Athosian children through the wall to her right. She tried to shout to them but couldn't seem to get enough air into her lungs to raise her voice higher than a choked gasp. There had to be a way in other than through the internal door. The Ancients might have been arrogant bastards but they were anything if not meticulous when it came to secret passageways and surprise openings. Looking up, in a vague but half-hearted attempt to see if maybe there was at least a ladder she could use to climb out of the water, she saw a square of grating, hazy, perhaps a combination of the salt water in her eyes and the poor lighting, but it appeared, to all intents and purposes, to be an air duct. Not original perhaps, but it would do.

The surrounding walls were slippery, wet to touch, perhaps even covered in some strange, alien film that she didn't particularly want to think about, but the vent was nearly two feet above her head, there was no way to reach it without at least some form of momentum to push her upwards.

She could hear the screams get louder for a moment, pitching at a level her eardrums throbbed. Taking the largest breath her burning lungs would allow she ducked beneath the water, grateful when her feet hit the hard floor of the tunnel rather than the soft sand of the ocean bed, after only a few feet. Closing her eyes and folding her arms to her sides she bent her knees and _pushed_.

The moment she broke the water's surface again, she raised her arms over her head, curling her fingers around the metal grating, breath catching horribly in her chest for a moment as it swung open and she was left suspended from the swinging hinge. Her shoulders screamed in protest at the jarring motion and she had to bite her lip in concentration to keep herself from releasing her hold. Jerky, barely coordinated and gasping for breath she hoisted herself through the gap, into the narrower tunnel. The vent barely allowed her the room to sit, instead she was forced to rest on all fours, water dripping from her, splashing onto the floor of the venting system, forming little puddles around her.

"Help!" the screaming was louder from in her, clearer, and suddenly being soaked to the skin and shivering seemed worth it: at least she was headed in the right direction.

Crawling down the tunnel took more effort than it should have. Every limb felt lined with lead, her vision blurred and swam in and out of focus, fortunately there was little to see, only the sound of the Tenaera and Reede's frightened screams to guide her. She could feel her heart thudding, sluggishly, in her head, pulsing against her temples. Perhaps jumping headfirst into ice-cold water hadn't been her most ingenious idea.

Finally, she saw a light, _ironic_; she smirked, the humour fuelling her, and comes to a second grate, this time, in the ceiling of a half-lit room: a blue-gold hue illuminating the last few feet of the tunnel as she approached.

"Tenaera?" she called out, hating how hoarse her voice sounded, "Tenaera?"

"Lexy!" the mousy-haired Athosian child cried back, "we're down here!"

"Stay clear of the grating," Lexy ordered, awkwardly turning so lay on her back, her feet against the grating, pausing for a few seconds to allow the children a chance to move away were they anywhere near it, before kicking, as hard as she could. She felt it loosen, saw the bolts quiver in their holds but not give, she tried again.

A splash followed a shriek of surprise from below and the grate fell free. Crawling through the narrow space Lexy looked down over the room. In the far corner, was a pile of crates, Tenaera sat, curled up on the top, her arms around her younger brother, her hair hanging damp around her frightened face.

"Are you all right?" Lexy called over, her throat still hoarse from the dive.

Tenaera nodded her head. Reede just blinked owlishly.

Lexy looked around, she could see the two vents in the wall to her left, water spilling through the grating, then her gaze fell to the several feet of water below the duct she was sat in.

"I'm coming to get you." she said, "stay where you are," she did not wait for a reply as she levered herself free and let herself fall into the water below.

It wasn't as cold as before, whether that was because the room had caused it to heat by a few, meagre, degrees or because her body was still struggling to heat itself again, she did not know. Most likely, it was the latter, something which was not, of course, a good thing.

As she approached the crates she could hear Teyla, muffled, still talking through the door, trying to soothe the frantic children as best she could.

"Teyla," Lexy called out, as she held onto one of the crates with one hand, and pushed her hair from her face with another, scrubbing the water droplets from her face, "how's Dobson and Zelenka doing on the water flow?"

"Lexy?" Cassie sounded both perplexed and confused for a moment, but she had no opportunity to continue as Teyla answered the teen's question.

"Doctor Zelenka seems to think that they have nearly isolated the correct pathway," the words, although fluent, sounded mildly strained, as if she were merely parroting what was being reported over her head, rather than having an understanding of what was being asked.

"There we go!" Dobson's gleeful exclamation could be heard through the doorway, "I've done it!"

Silence fell on the room, the only sounds that of the water dripping from the now closed vents and the heaving breaths of the room's three occupants. Then, creaking, and the vents faltered, the flimsy alloy that ordinarily proved so strong in the Pegasus Galaxy, buckling as if it were nothing more than paper.

Lexy contemplated, for the briefest of moments, sending an expletive in Dobson's direction. The man's arrogance was worse than Rodney's, not merely because the man had very little to be arrogant about. The rising water level however, spoke of a more immediate matter at hand than rebuking the over-confident Lieutenant.

"Guys," she said, the roar of the water nearly drowning out her voice, "we need to get you out of here. Can you swim?"

Tenaera gave a shaky nod as Reede replied, "sorta,"

"You need to come down here then," Lexy instructed, "we have to get up there," she pointed towards the duct she had crawled through. Even if it didn't lead anywhere other than outside, it would buy time, the higher they got, the further away from the water they managed to put themselves the more likely it was that Zelenka - because Dobson was evidently useless - could come up with a way to drain the water and get them out of here. There was certainly no way she could expect Tenaera and Reede to swim back to the pier.

"What?" Reede squawked, "but-"

"It's the driest place we've got right now," she said, giving him a firm look, "we need to give Zelenka as much time as we can, okay?"

Tenaera nodded, "I will go first," she said, before cupping her brother's face in her hands, "I will show you that there is nothing to be frightened of, little brother," she whispered, "I will not let anything bad happen to you," pressing her forehead against Reede's for a moment she closed her eyes, before pulling away and allowing Lexy to help her down into the water.

Tenaera's grip on Lexy's hand was vice-like, her bravery a front that it would seem her brother was either too young or too frightened to see through. Lexy gave the younger girl's fingers a reassuring squeeze as she led her across the room. When they reached the opening Tenaera looked back at Reede, giving him a weak, but hopefully smile. The boy looking so small, curled at the edge of the stack of crates, gaze transfixed as Lexy put her hands on Tenaera's waist, and, between them, created enough momentum for Tenaera to lever her arms through the opening and pull herself through.

The lights flickered, sparks falling from the fittings as Lexy swam back to Reede.

"Come on," Lexy coaxed him down, "it's not too far,"

Reede let her help him into the water, frantically paddling his arms and legs to keep his head above the water. Spluttering and spitting as the water lapped at his chin.

"It's okay," Lexy placated him, even though it really, obviously, wasn't, "don't panic. Nice and slowly, I'll hold your hand,"

* * *

"What happened?" Cassie demanded, stricken, "I thought you'd fixed the venting?"

"They didn't hold," Dobson reported as Zelenka scrambled over to take Dobson's place at the computer.

"They are very old," Zelenka said, "they must have been damaged during the time the city was submerged,"

Cassie ran her fingers through her hair, before placing her hands, steepled, against her forehead. There was little point asking what could be done, if something could be, it would be, and her asking about it would only shave precious seconds off whatever time they had.

"How did Lexy-Claire get into the room?" Teyla asked, obviously concerned, "surely there must be a way in?"

Cassie shrugged, "I have no idea Teyla," she said, "knowing Lexy, she probably jumped off the pier or something," she laughed at the insanity of such a suggestion before quieting for a moment. It was such an insane possibility that it was more than likely that would have been precisely what Lexy had done. "Get that video feed back up," she instructed.

* * *

Getting Reede through the gap was easier, not only was he smaller, and therefore lighter, but Tenaera was able to help by pulling him through. The fact that the water was also significantly higher probably had a lot to do with it too.

Tugging her little brother to her chest the little Athosian girl shuffled back "there's room up here for you too Lexy!" Tenaera called out, her voice echoing around the tunnel, the musty air tasted sickly on her tongue.

The lights flickered again as Lexy went to lift herself from the water. Before she could gain much momentum however, her entire body jolted, skin tingling, and for a split second she experienced the terrifying sensation of falling and not being able to move to do anything about it before everything went black and she hit the water again, with a graceless splash.

_Author's Note: Reviews aren't compulsory for an update, but they are a motivating factor :)._


	24. Desperate Deeds

Chapter 24: Desperate Deeds

"Laura!" Beckett exclaimed as the blonde woman strolled into his office, "what can I do for ye?"

Cadman gave him a clipped smile, "I need the schematics for the city," her tone somewhere between a polite request and a curt order.

Beckett frowned, his expression somewhere between confusion and that set-jaw look of determination so patented to him, "what's going on Laura?"

"Just do it," she replied, eyes dark, her face so taut the good doctor had no intention of arguing.

Beckett gave her a pointed look, briefly, conveying in that simple gesture his displeasure at the commanding tone she saw fit to address him with. Knowing, however, that Laura would not ordinarily speak to him so roughly, he reacted to her order with the air of a man having spent years in the presence of military officers, many of whom paid little heed to the petty emotional needs of civilians when there was an emergency afoot. Within seconds the city's blue prints had sprung to life on his computer screen, Laura leaning in so close he could smell the perfume she would deny she wore were he to comment.

"What're ye looking for?" he asked carefully, fingers poised over the keys, ready for her next instruction.

"Two of the Athosian children are trapped in the lower levels," she replied, squinting a little at the images, "enlarge that for me,"

He did.

"The room's flooded and the door won't open – and again, thanks – Lexy jumped off the pier and, by the sounds of it-"

"What?" Beckett exclaimed, "that girl has all the survival instincts of a… a lemming! Or-"

"General Sheppard?" Cadman's lips quirked upwards in a minute smile when Beckett harrumphed in agreement, she looked back at the city schematics, "bingo!" she exclaimed, "I can get in through that vent there, should be able to get all three of them out then,"

"What the bloody hell did she think she was doing jumping off the pier?" Beckett exclaimed, as Cadman's eyes flicked over the schematic once more, memorising the winding tunnel that would be her route.

"Saving Tenaera and Reede," she replied, moving towards the door.

"At the expense of her own life?" his tone was not accusatory, if anything it was resigned, he understood Lexy's compassion, but even if he could sympathise with her self-destructive tendencies, he saw no reason to approve of them.

Cadman smirked, "Carson," she said softly, watching over her shoulder as he blinked at her, the same off-guard expression that her saying his name always elicited dancing almost imperceptibly across his features, "her father's Daniel Jackson, what else do you expect?"

* * *

"Tenaera!" Teyla exclaimed, "you must remain calm," the calm in her voice a direct contrast to the panic that danced through her eyes, "what happened to Lexy?""

The video feed was poor quality, pixels shifting randomly across the screen. Not that the feed was proving much use, the room was dark, and it was difficult to tell what exactly was being shown to them.

"L-lightning," the young girl stammered, "lightning came from the ceiling; it hit Lexy when she tried to climb up to us!"

Even Dobson paled.

"Tenaera," Cassie said, "can you see her?"

"N-no… wait, yes – she's in the water,"

"Is she breathing?" Cassie asked, desperately trying to ignore the terrified sobs of the young boy in the background.

"I don't know," Tenaera paused, "I shall try and get her out of the water,"

As much as she wanted to argue that the child returning to the icy ocean depths, Teyla conceded that they had little choice. She closed her eyes and muttered a soft prayer, "attempt to keep her head above the water, Tenaera,"

"Are we sure there is no way we can send a puddle jumper down for them?" Cassie raked her hands through her hair once more.

Zelenka shook his head gravely, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose with one hand whilst the other continued to type away at the computer, squinting at the algorithms that were swimming across the screen.

Dobson, in a moment of humility that was so far for hims, mimicked the scientist's movement jerkily, "Lexy appears to have managed to get into the room via some sort of venting system," he pulled the city schematics up on to his computer monitor, "although there is technically an air pocket here," he gestured on the map, "the gap here," he pointed again, "is too small for the 'jumper to fit through,"

Cassie paused for a moment, "so we land the 'jumper on the seabed, put the shield up, and have the three of them swim through,"

"Cassie," Teyla intoned gently, "Lexy is injured,"

"Dammit," Cassie muttered under her breath, "so we send someone to them!"

"We wouldn't have time," Dobson argued, "by the time we got a puddle jumper down there-"

"For God's sake Dobson, come up with something you _can_ do, rather than wasting time pointing out all the things that you can't!"

Dobson bit his lip to prevent himself from saying something he shouldn't, "yes ma'am," he nodded his head just once before moving back over to the panel and examining the chipped and broken pieces of crystal for some modicum of evidence they might have originally missed.

"Fraiser?" Cassie's radio earpiece jumped to life.

* * *

"Go ahead, Major," Cassie's response crackled through the radio channel.

The blonde Major jogging down the halls, Beckett and two airman closely following, a gurney trundling along with them, medical kits strung over shoulder as the four of them lumbered into a transporter.

"I think I've found a way into the room through the air vents," Cadman explained.

"What? Where?"

"Through an air vent, Beckett, Perks and Johnson are with me as back up,"

"Which room?"

"On the next level up from you ma'am," Cadman reported as the transporter doors whooshed open and a dimly lit corridor came into view, "I'll keep you updated,"

"With all due respect ma'am," one of the usually silent airmen interrupted the vague silence of the lower levels of Atlantis cautiously, "how can we not keep control of a civilian minor?"

Cadman smirked, even in the most dire of situations, there is always someone who can crack a joke, or make a remark that should not otherwise prove humorous – why else had she burst into hysterical laughter have way through the eulogy at her grandfather's funeral? – nevertheless, it would seem that given the perfectly perplexed expression pasted across airman Perks' face, he did not see the irony of his question.

"I should think even you know that Lexy Jackson is a whole lot more than a 'civilian minor', Perks,"

"That child is bloody untouchable an' she knows it," Beckett retorted, proud that even though his budding arthritis was inevitably making itself known under the weight of his med-kit, he was able to keep pace with the young men trotting along at Cadman's ankles.

"She's been through hell Doc, and _you_ know it," Cadman rose to the teen's defence, even when she knew, in her heart, she whole-heartedly agreed with the Scotsman's sentiment.

Beckett sighed. He knew the situation, and this argument had been waging for years and nothing was to come of it. The same retorts, the same questions, the same people agreeing that something should be done but at the end of the day, nothing ever was. The lives they led were dangerous, and, like in some poor Hollywood imitation of reality, being able to survive was not only remarkable but a talent -why waste precious resources protecting people who can protect themselves? – Yet somewhere along the way they all seemed to have forgotten that most of the time, the one thing people – _heroes_ – need protecting from is themselves.

Lexy was volatile, unpredictable and fiercely stubborn, familiar traits to all of them, even combined with raging teenage hormones. Mandatory psych-evaluations only stay mediatory for so long and it is all too easy to fool the hacks that slip through the ordinarily vigilant cracks of the US military these days. She was not psychotic, nor was she a sociopath: her mother's ease with people was matched only by that awe-inspiring ability her father had never realised he had: of being able to walk into a crowded room and everybody just _stop_. Lexy was gifted, spectacularly so, and with a wealth of resources at her fingertips - resources she had grown up using, modifying and maintaining – what need had they to stop one of their best and brightest? Puddle jumpers, crystal panels, zats and staff weapons were a second nature to the girl, no different to an ordinary teen having access to computers, cell phones, wireless internet. It was normal, and normal is accepted. Even if that means that every once in a while somebody slips through the cracks, somebody like Lexy.

It was after all, undeniable that Lexy was different, that she _did _require special treatment. But how often do adults listen when a little girl says she doesn't need help coping with her parent's deaths? How often do adults encourage a teenager to learn how to fire a gun just because she asked? How often do adults give flying lessons to an eleven-year-old on the reasoning that she only wanted to learn? Too often perhaps, but not regularly enough for it to become precedent, and they were certainly not occurrences so frequent that anybody had any excuse for falling to Lexy's every beck and call but they always had, and if the past set any precedent, they always would.

Sounds came from the room, and despite the frantic nature of there mission, Cadman motioned, instinctively for Beckett and the airmen to hold back.

"Who's in there?" she demanded, sidearm held at arms length as she peered into the dimly lit room.

"Would you kindly put your weapon down Major," came the curt reply.

"Mckay?" Cadman exclaimed, lowering her sidearm, "what the hell are you doing?"

The scientist only raised his eyebrows, "I sincerely hope you don't expect me to give you a leg-up Major," he said, glancing at the hole in the wall near the ceiling, ignoring her question entirely. He may be from their past, but even so, they should respect his intellect enough to realise that with a crisis at hand, he could always be found, by fault or design, at the centre of the rescue.

Cadman smirked, "not at all Mckay," she handed her sidearm to Airman Johnson before removing her jacket, and unlacing her boots before kicking them off, "Perks? You up for it?"

"Yes ma'am," Perks hurried forward, crouching by the wall and cupping his hands to provide a platform for the Major's sock-clad foot to use as a means by which to lever herself into the tunnel.

Within seconds Cadman found herself in the dark confines of the Ancient venting system, she tapped her radio earpiece as she crawled along the corridor, "I'm in the vents a floor above you Fraiser,"

"We have your subcutaneous transmitter on screen now Laura," Cassie reported, "We're tracking your progress. Lexy is in the water," there's a momentary pause, "Tenaera says she's unconscious,"

Cadman cursed under her breath, doubling her efforts to scramble through the cramped tunnel.

"You're on the right track," Dobson interjected, "can you see anything?"

"Its pitch dark in here Dobson," Cadman said, refusing to allow the edge of panic that was causing her shoulders to shake, to work itself into her voice.

"You're right on top of them Laura," Cassie's voice drifted over the radio, "can you see anything? A grating, anything?"

"Hold on," she said, "I think I hear something,"

* * *

Reede looked down through the hole in the wall. He could hear Tenaera splashing in the water, garbled talk from Teyla through the door, and the pounding of his own heart in his ears. He could not remember ever being so frightened, even the stories of the Wraith that whispered through his village did not scare him as much as this did.

A thud echoed down the corridor, and Reede whipped his head around, "who's there?" he called out.

"Reede is that you? It's Major Cadman," she peered through the darkness and could just about make out the trembling figure of the boy not to far ahead of her.

Reede almost cried with relief.

"Where's Tenaera?" Cadman asked as she came to a stop near the boy.

"Down here!" Tenaera called out before her brother could answer for her, scrambling to keep her head above water, "I can't find Lexy!"

Cadman nodded once, before sliding through the vent and into the water. She swore under her breath as the icy temperatures permeated her clothes and licked at her skin like an angry lover.

"Get back up there," she ordered Tenaera, watching her only long enough to see Reede lean down to take his sister's hand: the water had risen so high now that it would be no problem for his little arms to pull the girl up to the safety of the air duct with him. Unfortunately, it also meant that before long the water would be lapping at the insides of the tunnel and if the four of them weren't out soon, they'd all drown.

Shaking her damp hair from her eyes Cadman ruefully wished she had thought to bring a flashlight with her, not that it would have done much good, she needed her hands free. Reaching around blindly, loathe to move too far too soon should she lose her position in the room and be unable to navigate back to the air vent, she ignored Teyla's queries through the door and Cassie and Dobson's obtrusive demands over her radio and tried to listen for something other than the gentle rocking of the water against the city walls. Her fingers brushed something cool and she almost recoiled, before her numbing fingers moved down and circled an arm.

"Got her!" Cadman called out, "guys, get ready to pull her up!"

Tenaera and Reede lay down on their bellies, reaching down to take a hold of Lexy's arms, and between the two of them pulling and Cadman's pushing, they managed to haul Lexy's unconscious form into the tunnel.

"Major, she doesn't look very well," Reede's voice trembled a little, looking wide-eyed at his sister, silently pleading for her help once more.

"Reede is right," Tenaera stated, "I am unsure as to whether she is breathing,"

Cadman heaved herself up into the venting system also, water slewing off of her with a loud splash. The tunnel was cramped with the four of them, Tenaera and Reed further back, Lexy's body laying prone across the flaw and Cadman perching precariously just inside the vent. The marine leaned forward as best she could, pressing her cold fingers to Lexy's even cooler throat. She tapped her radio with her other hand.

"Carson, I'm not getting a pulse," she reported, her voice may have been military calm but inside she was shaking, "and there's not enough room in this tunnel to perform CPR!"

* * *

Beckett's stomach dropped even as he stated with a forced sense of calm: "ye'll have to get her out of there as fast as ye can,"

He heard Cadman tell Tenaera and Reede to start crawling back_, just keep going_, he heard her say, _you can't miss it_. There were some scuffling of fabric, and some grunts as the conscious trio rearranged themselves and began their journey back.

Perks and Johnson moved over to the wall, readying themselves to help the children through as they appeared through the hole in the wall, carefully lifting them down to the ground and wrapping them in towels before moving them quickly as they heard Cadman shout out "keep it clear boys, I'm on my way down," before two boots appeared and the blonde marine slipped from the tunnel with a peculiar sort of grace, "gonna need some help here," she said, reaching back up before she could be as firmly ensconced in towels as Tenaera and Reede.

Johnson moved forwards again, so too did Mckay, and between the three of them they swiftly managed to pull Lexy from the tunnel and into Johnson's waiting arms. Without a moment's hesitation he turned and placed her on the gurney they had brought with them and Beckett set to work.

"How long she been like this?" Beckett asked as pressed his stethoscope to Lexy's chest, tucking it neatly down her soaked black top before letting it drop from his ears.

Cadman shrugged, giving an absently grateful nod to Mckay as he handed her a towel. Tenaera abnd Reede gave him equally blank looks, though theirs' betrayed more fear than Cadman's ever could.

"No breathing, no pulse." Beckett reported, taking the panels from the portable defibrillator from Johnson when the airman handed them to him wordlessly before taking a pair of scissors from the med-kit and cutting away Lexy's shirt.

Perks reached for Tenaera and Reede, pulling them aside and covering their eyes as Beckett charged the panels and placed them against the pads Johnson had stuck to Lexy's chest. The teenager's body lurched violently into the air, arching into the electric pulse before falling away. Johnson's fingers sprung to Lexy's carotid artery, shaking his head when he felt no response before flicking the charge up on the defibrillatorpanel and standing clear. Again the shock pulse through Lexy's body and again she fell away, her heart stubbornly refusing to start.

Beckett thrust the panels back at Johnson before checking himself, her breathing too. Growing frustrated when he felt neither he began manual CPR, his hands setting a bruising rhythm against her torso as he tried to do what the defibrillator had not been able.

"Carson?" Cassie's strangely quiet voice broke through the heavy silence that had filled the formally abandoned room as she stood in the doorway, Teyla standing close behind. She took in Mckay's ashen face, Cadman's tearful expression and Beckett's futile efforts before one hand moved to cover her mouth in horror, pleading "_no_…"

Finally, after several minutes where the only sounds echoing from the walls was that of Beckett's pants for breath as he alternated between compressions and trying to force air into Lexy's damaged lungs, and the steady drip-drop of water onto the cold floor. Johnson had long since stepped back, his own eyes bright as he stared, resolutely at the still figure on the gurney.

"What're you doing?" Cadman demanded, her voice hatefully shaky, "why're you stopping?"

Beckett wiped the back of one hand across his sweaty brow, before squeezing at his weeping eyes, "there's nothin' I can do," his voice cracked mid-sentence, his tone nothing more than a whisper when he added "she's gone, Lexy's gone."

_Author's Notes: Apologies for lack of updates, laptop broke. Please do review, really enjoy hearing what people have to say :)._


	25. Plastic Hearts and Paper Dreams

_Author's Notes: My medical knowledge extends about as far as what I've seen on TV. I have no medical expertise whatsoever, but it's all make-believe anyway so please forgive me my errors (many as there are). _

Chapter 25: Plastic Hearts and Paper Dreams

Brutal silence pressed down on the room with a weight similar to the water still burning in Cadman's throat. The salt still stinging her eyes could be blamed for the tears that slipped down her cheeks but she was not accustomed to lying to herself and now was not a moment she wished to start. She dare not look at the others, entirely unable to tear her eyes away from the slim frame lying prone on the gurney. Tenaera and Reede were too shocked and shivering to make much noise other than the soft sobs currently being smothered in Teyla's shoulders, and the static gasps for air that passed for breath bounced off the walls, resonating with the sound of water that was starting to echo down the air vent over ahead.

In the wake of death the air is always clear, cold and ironically quiet. Breaths catch, and seem obscurely like betrayal, tears are hot and chests tight and never before is it possible to feel so damned _alive_ as when somebody else is dead. Maybe it shouldn't be like that, maybe guilt and grief should not mingle to form something so electric, so pulsating as the relief that builds like ice is your gut, because it was somebody else, not you, but the matter of the fact is that it does, it has and there is nothing you can do about it. There is nothing so honest as death.

Cadman took a step forward, feeling water squelch from her socks; her numb feet tingling as her toes burned under the pressure of her weight, satisfied that they would sustain her she took another, and another, until she was standing next to the gurney. One hand darted out from beneath the towel around her shoulders to halt Beckett's wrist as he went to pull one of the thick blankets up over Lexy's still face. She caught his eyes for only a moment before he relented.

Lexy's hair hung dark and damp about her face, water seeping into the sheets and glistening on skin pale with cold. The water had stolen whatever warmth would have resided after her heart had stopped and the only indication that she had not been dead hours was the suppleness of her skin. Her military-issue tank top hung in tatters astride her torso, the girl's modesty concealed only by her undergarments and Beckett's attempt to cover her. A chain lay against her throat, the pendant buried somewhere amongst her hair. Suddenly, it seemed important to find it and, ignoring the watchful, grief-stricken gazes of the others in the room, she pulled the towel from her shoulders and laid it on the gurney next to Lexy's feet. Cadman's hands were shaking as she gently brushed the teenager's hair aside, the alien pendant lay cushioned between Lexy's neck and the stretcher. The stone was peculiarly warm as Cadman, gently, picked it up between thumb and forefinger. On impulse, if only because if the others knew what she was about to do they'd try and stop her, she let the pendant drop into her palm before she tugged, hard, praying that the alien alloy would give under the abrupt force. When it did, she staggered back, the alarmed gasps filling the air, supporting Beckett's horrified exclamation:

"Laura, no!"

But nothing happened.

Cadman was not sure what it was exactly she had expected to happen; only that she had predicted something a whole lot more dramatic. Angry tears pierced like daggers behind her eyes, overflowing as a furious sob clawed at her throat. It was supposed to have _worked_. She was supposed to have fixed this ridiculous mess, not confirmed the cruel reality that for a second, one meagre moment amongst millions, had seemed plausible as one of delirium and doubt. Instead of being the hero, the voice of reason and hope in a room filled with grief, she was left with no choice but to stand, shivering convulsively to one side, foolishly clutching a broken necklace in her palm.

* * *

Vala looked up, smiled a little in greeting before looking away again. Turned toward the window, her face silhouetted in a profile against the dimming Atlantean light she looked worldly, _wise_ even. So much more than the silly child she pretended so often to be. A surge of pride swelled in his chest as he approached, catching his breath as he took a seat opposite her , sitting and watching her with a stupid little smile on his face. Oh he wasn't grinning; just a pleasant little quirk of his lips that spoke of honour and adoration and everything in between. Smiling just because she was _there_, and he was _hers _and she just… she glowed.

"Have I got something in my hair?" Vala spoke with disturbing clarity, her eyebrows knitting into a perplexed frown.

"What?"

"Daniel, you're staring at me," she said, "and as flattering as that is, it's becoming a little unnerving," the frown stayed in place and the happiness fell away with his smile, that gesture, that neat little narrowing of her eyes that shone with confusion and concern a startling reminder as to why he'd come over in the first place.

As much as he would like to pretend it was merely because he wanted to sit with her, talk with his wife for the first time in what truly felt like weeks, that was not true. His heart lodged in his throat as he averted his gaze, plucking his glasses from his face and pinching the bridge of his nose in weary frustration_. Just once_, he thought, _just once why can't life be simple?_.

"Daniel?" Vala reached forward, stilling his arm and easing his wrist down into his lap before lacing her fingers with his, "what is it? What's wrong?"

Never before had Daniel Jackson felt so much like weeping.

* * *

Pain. She knew pain before she knew anything else. Great, searing, agonizing pain that seared every nerve ending in her body, each cell howling in a deafening cacophony of noise that made her head feel like it was exploding.

After pain, she knew screaming, loud, piercing even, as she lurched upright. The sound tore at her throat, ripping at her lungs with the force of a thousand tiny blades.

She felt hands on her arms, on her legs, cupping her head as she was eased back onto damp sheets, shivering as the shrieking fell away and a rubber mask fitted to her mouth. Voices overhead saying words, sentences that she couldn't quite hear. Hands everywhere all at the same time, pawing and touching and crawling: she struggled, trying to fling them aside as they skittered up her arms and across her forehead, tangling in her hair. A sharp pinch in her arm only fuelled her frantic thrashing before a second later her limbs were as leaden as her terror was real. Something warm jittered up her arm and spread, tendrils curling and for a moment, the edge was taken off of the burning and the pain dulled.

Suddenly, she was dreaming.

* * *

So he did, crumpling and letting salty tears soak his cheeks, sobs to wrack his shoulders and claw like vermin at his chest as he slumped over into his wife's waiting arms. Relishing the feel of her slim arms surrounding his body as it shook with tremors he couldn't control, bands of warm steel that shielded him from an onslaught he couldn't name if he tried. It was cathartic in a way, weeping like a child in her arms, and he wasn't so chauvinistic to feel ashamed about it either, the strength simply _feeling_ her close leant him was almost overwhelming.

"Daniel?" Vala spoke quietly, rubbing, somewhat clumsily, what she hoped to be a soothing circle down his back, "Daniel, stop it. You're scaring me,"

But she received no answer, and she had no choice but to stare, dumbstruck, as her husband leant his head against her chest, his face buried in his palms as he openly wept. Wept for life and for death, for the lives lost, and the lives ruined, for the deaths of the men and women caught victim by the siege, the death of his wife, and perhaps most importantly of all, he wept for his little girl. His precious little bundle of joy and laughter; his space-jet piloting, weapon-wielding, ass-kicking, baby daughter, and the childhood she'd had stolen from her.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Mckay exclaimed as Beckett gently squeezed the bag connected to the oxygen mask on Lexy's face, "you just said she-"

"Johnson!" Beckett nodded at the gurney's metal sides, stepping back enough to allow the airman room to lift them into place before the three medical personnel sprang into action, rushing the gurney from the room, trundling down the corridor as Lexy's head lolled in vague delirium.

The route back to the infirmary seemed to take an abysmally long time, but the familiar blue walls of Atlantis' hospital brought a new sense of justice into Carson Beckett's heart. The nursing staff sprung into action and he could fault them nothing as Lexy's lithe figure was moved from the gurney to a separate bed. Electrodes stuck to her skin, lines dancing across monitors in perfect synchrony with the reassuring melody of blips and beeps that emitted from their tinny speakers.

The minutes ticked by in a haze of barked orders and status reports -

"_She's hypertensive!" _

"_Give her a shot of nitro-glycerine – oh-two stats?"_

"_Hypoxic but stable – body temp. is still too low,"_

"_Let's get her out of these clothes!"_

_- b_ut he could work with that. It was those things that he understood. He could react to those words, but not to silence. No doctor can react to silence. Silence is when the doctor's job is done and the moment has passed. But not this moment, not this day.

Not Lexy.

Not again.

* * *

The breeze was as warm as the ocean was still: each gust like gentle fingers combing through her hair. Smiling a little, she lifted her face into the sun, relishing the calm that settled over her like a familiar caress. Peaceful, that's what this was, a moment that was entirely without consequence in the grand scheme of things: completely innocuous. Even movement beside her did not have her stir; instead she waited in blissful calm until the voice spoke.

"Last time we were here," it said, "you were thirteen years old and trying to bum cigarettes off of me,"

She opened one, amused, eye "got any now?"

Cadman snorted, "no," she replied, ducking her head a little as she sank down to sit next to her friend, staring out into the horizon with the sort of determination that makes you feel important without even knowing why, "but what I wouldn't do for one,"

Lexy chuckled, nodding before closing her eyes again and tilting her head back into the sun's rays.

"So what is it you're doing here anyway?" Cadman asks, plucking a jello-cup and spoon from her pocket and tugging off the lid, "man, I hate cherry flavour,"

She smirked again, "what do you mean?"

"Well," the Major's words were slurred a little by the mouthfuls of red jello she was swallowing, "don't you have a universe to save or something?"

Something cold tickled at the base of her spine but she ignored it, choosing instead to ignore the comment.

"I mean," she put the cup down and picked up another, this time green, lime flavoured, "all those people out there, they're depending on you baby, we all are,"

Lexy frowned. The air was cooling and gooseflesh plucked at her arms, blonde hairs standing on end as she suppressed a shudder.

"They're screaming Lexy," on to blue, what flavour was blue? She couldn't remember, and it frustrated her, "can't you hear them? They're so loud," Cadman paused, "they're giving me a headache Lexy, you need to make them stop screaming,"

"I don't know how," she admitted softly, her gaze preoccupied by the dark storm clouds rolling across the sky like demons, "I'm so tired Laura," she breathed, desperation clinging to her voice in an ugly fashion, "I'm just so tired,"

"They'll die Lexy. They'll drown in their own pity. They're screaming so loud Lexy, can't you hear them? You must be able to hear them,"

Lexy closed her eyes, tearful but refusing to let them fall, tears solved nothing. "I'm so tired," she pleaded, "Please Laura, I'm just _so tired_," her voice trembled, drowned out as thunder rumbled, hungrily across the sky.

"I need saving to Lexy, can you save me?" Cadman placed her empty jello-cups to one side, dropping the spoon too, before she got to her feet, standing with her feet squared and her arms spread wide, "can you save me Lexy?"

"How?" "You know how," Cadman's voice as cool now, but her expression remained as warm as ever.

"I _don't_ know," she replied, "tell me,"

"Tut tut," was the Major's reply, "you know it doesn't work like that. Save me Lexy,"

"_I_ _don't know how_!"

"Save me Lexy," were the last words out of Cadman's mouth before she pitched forwards and there was nothing Lexy could do but watch as the blonde tipped off the edge of the pier in a graceless swan-dive.

* * *

Beeping filled the infirmary, racing in tandem with the spikes on the ECG monitor that displayed a rapidly climbing heart rate.

"Pushing cordarone," he announced as he emptied the barrel of the syringe into the IV line.

The nurse shook her head, "she's tachycardic,"

"Again," he upped the dosage again, but the shrill beeps of the heart monitor still echoed through the air of his infirmary: keeping his gaze firmly on the girl's face he waited, hoping, that the drug might take effect any second.

"Doctor?" the nurse prompted after a full minute, young and inexperienced the poor young woman seemed terrified as she watched her boss stare, helplessly as his patient shook with tremors so violent they threatened to tug her IV clean out, or dislodge the oxygen mask from her face, "Doctor Beckett if we don't-"

"Where's Major Cadman?" he exclaimed, dropping the used hypodermic needles in the bio-hazard bin and stripping off his latex gloves.

"She's just-" the nurse gestured but did not have time to finish her sentence before Atlantis' CMO was hurrying down the aisle to a bed where the curtains hung half-closed around it.

"Laura!" he exclaimed, wincing in guilt at his abrupt tone of voice, "Lexy's pendant, where is it?"

"Here," the startled marine replied, holding out her hand, marks in her palm showing where she had been clutching the chain so tightly it had bitten red and white blemishes into the skin.

"Thank ye," he replied, his expression was severe, but as always his eyes filled with a subtle passion that all rudeness was instantaneously either forgotten or forgiven.

Cadman swung her legs around to sit sideways on the bed, clad only in a hospital gown and warm-dry socks she shivered a little at the rush of air but could not take her eyes off of Beckett as he hurried back to Lexy's bed, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of the necklace as he held it open and poised until it was securely around the seizing teenager's neck before letting it snap closed.

Seconds passed, the tremors dissipated and the ECG slowed enough that the manic beeping returned once more to appropriately intermittent beeps, falling into a much steadier, reliable rhythm all together.

The nurse remained stood; shell-shocked at Lexy's bedside, her gaze alternating between her patient and Beckett whose gaze was locked only with Cadman's. The duo staring at each other in relief and confusion, the same question playing on their minds: _What in the Devil's name had just happened? _

_Author's Notes: Hopefully that wasn't too confusing, it got away from me a bit there (as you can probably tell by the quick update!). So many people have this on favourites and story alert, it would be great to hear from some of you so please do take a few seconds to just leave a quick review :)._


	26. Jailbreak

Chapter 26: Jailbreak

It is alarming how, despite being light-years away, the Atlantis infirmary held the same pungent aroma of every medical facility on Earth. That peculiar smell of antiseptic and bleach that caught in your nose, mingled with the heady warmth of sweat and soap. It was familiar, comforting even, but alarming all the same.

Beckett sat with his head in his hands at his desk. The CMO's office was clearly not designed to hold this many people, "for Christ's sake Rodney, would ye stop pacin'!" he exclaimed, dropping his hands and looking up, shooting the astrophysicist an impatient look.

"Is this normal for you people?" Mckay exclaimed, "is this what you _do _everyday? Just bring people back to life?" he was bordering on hyperventilating, which would not be good for his blood pressure, or indeed any one of his other medical concerns. He was an intelligent man, and although he held much disdain for the voodoo sciences of modern medicine, he knew enough about the practices to know that dead people did _not_ just wake up.

"No," Cadman said, still clad in hospital scrubs, pointedly ignoring Beckett's expression that pleaded with her to just _rest_ for a little while, her arms folded across her chest as she observed the group, "maybe she wasn't dead?"

Beckett looked mildly hurt at the thinly veiled accusation, "I've been doin' my job long enough to know when a patient's dead Major," his voice was soft, conveying his displeasure without even really trying to, "I pronounced Lexy-Claire Jackson dead at five-seventeen pee-em. Her heart had stopped, an' so had her breathing. Her core body-temperature was five degrees below normal – by any an' all definitions, Lexy was medically dead. There was no way she could have just woken up the way she did,"

"But the fact of the matter is Carson, she did," Cassie, forever the intermediary, said softly, "is she still unconscious?"

The doctor nodded "I've asked Airman Perks to keep an eye on her for now,"

"I hate to say it," Cadman said, "but we're all thinking it – Adria?"

Teyla tilted her head modestly, "that would be my assumption, yes,"

"Why?" Mckay asked, he hated feeling so out of the loop, so completely lost inside his own head because these people, this place were all so familiar and yet every time he tried to grasp something it slipped just out of reach. Even in this room, having witnessed the very same feat that the other's had, he still felt half a step behind. Allowed to join in only because he was a witness they didn't want spreading rumours until they had decided on a story themselves: cowering in the corner so none of them would get caught. It felt so juvenile.

"The pendant Lexy wears in a piece of Asguard technology which protects her from Adria's telepathic hold," Teyla explained calmly, "when Major Cadman removed the pendant Adria was able to enter Lexy's mind once more," she caught Mckay's confused look, and recognised the gold-fishing gesture his lips were making as one where any second, he would interrupt and demand more answers, more than they had, more than they were willing to give. "Adria used Lexy to open the Stargate before the siege on Earth," she explained.

"The Asguard forged the pendant as a means to keep every one else, safe," Cassie went on.

Mckay frowned, "everyone else?"

"Adria doesn't want to kill Lexy Rodney," Cadman said slowly, "she wants Lexy to join her,"

"So she decided to _bring her back to life?"_

Beckett looked solemn, "it looks like it,"

"To be perfectly honest," Cassie said, "if that's the case, we should be more concerned with what information Adria managed to obtain whilst she was in Lexy's head,"

Even Mckay felt a chill run over him at that.

* * *

The back of her hand itched mercilessly and without even opening her eyes Lexy reached across with her free hand and tugged the IV line free, wincing at the sting but grateful that the used line was no longer in place. Her eyelids burned red with the harsh infirmary lights and for half a second she contemplated dulling them with a mental command but immediately thought better of it. The events of the last few hours rushing back with harrowing clarity, but perhaps what was more disturbing was that besides feeling ridiculously thirsty, she felt normal. Sure, her limbs felt a bit heavy, but only in that slept-too-long sort of way, muscles too relaxed and reluctant to move.

As she lay still, her eyes remained closed as she took careful stock of her injuries, or rather lack thereof. She remembered jumping off the pier, the burn of water in her lungs. She remembered the nerve-frying shock of electricity coursing through her body, a scream and darkness before more screaming, knives dragging over her skin, razor blades down her throat and lava in her veins before perfect calm. The sort of serenity that comes either with what regular visitor's to Beckett's infirmary referred to as 'the really good stuff', the brief edge of panic that accompanies waking from a really deep, really long sleep. It unnerved her a little but nothing more. The fact of the matter was that, surprisingly or no, she was okay.

Of course, waking up in the infirmary is rarely conducive to anyone ever being okay, whether it be from a bout of manly fainting (Mckay), a stray bullet (Lorne) or another near-miss suicide run (Sheppard). Regardless of the reason for being there, the majority of the time one usually awoke feeling a little worse for wear. Sure, waking up lucid generally meant they were in better shape than they had been when they'd been brought in, but, to be perfectly honest, Lexy could not remember a time when she'd felt less like she should be waking up in hospital.

Beckett hadn't clucked over so far, so naturally that meant there was an airman loitering nearby, one that would have to be avoided at all costs if Lexy were to have any hope of being released. No matter how well she felt, the chances of Beckett letting her out of the infirmary after having been electrocuted – because yes, she did remember that much – were about as likely as the Wraith becoming advocates for personal hygiene.

Cracking one eye Lexy was relieved to see that the curtains around her bed were pulled shut, a crack in meetings the flimsy material to her left showed the obligatory airman sitting in a plastic backed chair, flicking through some abandoned, and six-month out of date edition of _Guns and Ammo_.

She sat, slowly, adjusting to her surroundings and reluctant to admit to the head-rush that accompanied the abrupt movement. As she waited for her equilibrium to right, she reached, purely out of habit, for the pendant around her neck. No-one would ever be stupid enough to remove it, and the Asguard had been certain to use a non-metallic alloy that would not interfere with any of the Earth-based technologies such as MRI and CAT scanners, X-Ray machines, most likely even airport security. Ironically enough, even as Lexy had explored two galaxies before even hitting puberty, she had not yet never stepped a foot outside of the continental US. Nevertheless, the cool stone was reassuring her palm, warming for a few seconds before she let it fall back against her hospital scrubs and began scouring the small cubicle for her clothes. She spied none. Figured – they were probably soaked anyway.

Lexy looked down at the wires trailing from the electrodes stuck to her chest and temples, eyes shifting towards the monitors by her bed. She had learnt from experience that peeling off the sticky pads before turning the machines off led to a cacophony of wailing beeps and chirrups that, when planning a bid for freedom, it was best to make sure to turn off the monitors first.

Logically, she should wait, even call for the airman and have Beckett brought over so he could check her over again, but Lexy had never liked being cooped up, and growing up in a warzone taught you to pay attention to your body's needs without question. Remaining here meant questions and recriminations, endless litanies of you-did-the-right-thing-but-went-the-wrong-way-about-its and you-could-have-been-killeds that she neither needed nor wanted to hear. Perhaps she might have considered sneaking out of the infirmary childish if she hadn't helped John Sheppard do the same thing countless times as a child. Somehow, the man managed to spend almost as much time in the Atlantis infirmary as he did behind his desk at the SGC. Besides, the exhilaration of doing something that was ill-advised but not life-threatening was refreshing in a bizarre sort of way. And if none of that counted, she was the only daughter of Daniel Jackson, wandering off was in her _blood_.

Smiling a little to herself, Lexy began flicking off the monitors before unpeeling the sticky electrodes from her skin and minding she did not tangle herself up in the wires she lay them down on the bed with the abandoned IV line and peered back out of the curtain. The airman had gone, the magazine laid rumpled and a well-thumbed in his seat. He'd probably gone for a bathroom break. She felt a mild stab of sympathy when she imagined the poor young soldier having to bare witness to Beckett's wrath when they realised she'd liberated herself from the infirmaries confines.

The frivolity of it, the sheer juvenile nature of sneaking out from behind the cubicle curtains, ducking out of sight of neighbouring patients and Beckett's hovering nurses before padding bare-footed and shivering slightly down the hall and into a transporter unseen provided an infantile sense of achievement that curled somewhere in her stomach and brought a smile to her lips. She had no idea what she was going to do, nor how long she would realistically have before she was discovered missing, but whatever plan was to come to fruition, she knew one thing: it would, most definitely, require socks.

* * *

"Do we tell her?" Beckett's arms were folded across his chest, his shoulders tense as he gave Cassie a dedicated look.

"Yes!" Cadman said incredulously as Cassie sputtered, "no,"

"No?" Cadman echoed, "What do you mean _no?_ The kid deserves to know how close she came there,"

"Close?" Mckay interrupted scornfully, "she actually died on that table Major,"

Cadman gave him a curt look, a sort of adolescent squinting of her eyes and shrugging of her shoulders that would have only been compounded should she have gone as far as to stick her tongue out at him.

"I'm just not sure telling her exactly what happened to her is a good idea," Cassie explained softly, refusing to rise to the Major's bait, Cadman was exhausted, in shock and well and truly in need of a good nap, not that the woman was likely to go anywhere near a bed until she passed out.

"Adria was in her _head_ Fraiser!" Cadman cried out, "If I were her I'd wanna know!"

"And whose fault is that?" Cassie pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, a gesture, Mckay noticed, eerily reminiscent of her late mother.

Cadman glared, taking a step closer to Cassie, fists clenched at her sides as Teyla stepped between the two, a subtle movement that successfully diffused the situation at least to the point of averting a physical altercation. Not that, for one moment, did Teyla believe that Major Cadman would have actually allowed her temper to get the better of her.

"I saved her life," Cadman's voice was as voice as her eyes were narrow.

"Yes," Cassie acquiesced grimly, "but at what cost?"

"You would have done the same thing," Cadman retorted, "Every single one of you would have done it if you'd thought of it. The only reason this is my fault is because I thought of it first,"

Beckett got to his feet, sharing a brief look with Teyla, "Laura," his voice lilted gently, "ah see ye point," he sighed, "but I'm not sure telling the girl is the best idea. Not with everything else on her plate a' the moment, maybe once we figure out what exactly happened,"

Cadman gave him a level look, an expression which indicated her disagreement on the matter, with the others so resolved on the matter there was little point arguing any further, but that did not for one second mean that she was going to agree to anything. Let them think she surrendered, then, later, when it became apparent that Lexy did need to know, she could speak without disobeying a direct order. Career military meant you learnt when the fight and when to flee, when the argue and when to shut the fuck up.

"What of her parents?" Teyla inquired, "are we to tell them of their daughter's ordeal,"

Cassie contemplated it for a moment but it was, surprisingly, Beckett that beat her to the punch, "no,"

Mckay made an indignant noise, "Carson, even _I _recognise that as ethically questionable,"

Beckett raised an eyebrow at him, "technically, Doctor and Vala Jackson have no medical or legal authority over their daughter. Those decisions lie with Generals O'Neill and Carter, both of which are on Earth at the moment."

"And what about me?" Mckay gabbled, not entirely sure why he was fighting this, or even suggesting he wanted to have any involvement at all with the teen's medical decisions, "or future me," he scowled at the semi-amused looks being sent his way "whatever,"

"Also on Earth," Beckett responded, then sighed wearily, "we don't know what happened in there and ah would much rather not cause mass panic thank ye," he sat back down, "Lexy is a patient in my infirmary, tha' makes the decision ultimately mine for the time bein'," he stated, "and ah think its for the best that no one knows until we have something to tell them,"

Cassie and Teyla nodded their agreement, even Cadman looked suitably swayed, not happy by any stretch of the imagination, but the argument fought soundly enough that she was not going to attempt to overturn it.

"Rodney?" Beckett prompted, giving his friend an imploring look.

Mckay gave him a mutinous glare before nodding stiffly in reluctant accord.

_Author's Notes: This will pick up again soon, probably feels a little slow at the moment, sorry about that lol, please review, could really do with some reassurance that this is still worth my time lol :)._


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